When one’s company is distracted, the least one can do is entertain one’s self. “In very fact, Tybalt has turned bookmaker, with several pigeons placing bets on everything from Parian to the mice count in the garden. Our cat is assembling a small fortune and expects to retire with a handsome purse and a house in Piccadilly.” “Mm-hmm,” Pierce answered. Then he stilled, his eyebrows coming together as he lifted his eyes to mine. “Did you just say Tybalt was planning to retire in Piccadilly?”
