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‘Well, Mrs Ponsonby, the Garden Arms appears to be doing well under your sole proprietorship.’ George Boseman sipped at the breakfast tea Rosalie had poured for him. She held her teacup before her and waited for him to get to the point of his visit. ‘Though I’ve heard you have no paying guests now and have been sending visitors elsewhere … Not in a bother, are you? It’s quite a task, I’m sure, to run a hotel, guesthouse, tearoom, and a family, I’m sure. I do believe my lad, Harry here, saw your Andrew at the billiards room several times last week. Not running a little wild now he’s fatherless, I hope … Lads that age need a firm hand.’ Boseman made a gesture toward the erstwhile Harry. ‘Thank you for your concern, Mr Boseman. More tea? No? I have family visiting from the country and our