“I have been thinking,” she begins, “that it might interest John to set up elsewhere. In London.” Bartholomew raises his head, narrows his eyes. “London,” he repeats, rolling the word over his tongue. “To extend his business there.” Her brother pauses, rubs at his chin. “I see,” he says. “You mean that John might send someone to the city, for a while. Someone he trusts. A son perhaps.”
Send him to london to heal
