room after each performance begging for them.“Monty should have to bed her,” Hal said. “In no more than a week.”There was a small, incredulous silence.“He did that the second week she was in town,” Sir Isaac said, his voice still gentle, as though he were talking to an invalid. “Have you forgotten, Hal? It went into the betting book at White’s on a Monday night with a one-week time limit, and Monty had her on Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday nights, not to mention the days in between, until he had exhausted them both.”“Devil take it,” Hal said in some surprise, “and so he did. I must be foxed. You ought to have sent us home an hour ago, Monty.”“Did I invite you in the first place, Hal?” Jasper asked. “Or any of you? I can’t for the life of me remember. London must be duller than usual this year. There don’t seem to be any really interesting or original challenges left, do there?”He had used them all up, dash it all. And he was only twenty-five. Someone earlier in the spring had been overheard to say that if Lord Montford was sowing his wild oats, he must be intent upon sowing every inch of every field he owned-and those of his more prosperous neighbors too, for two counties in every direction. He could not possibly be down to his last inch yet, could he? Life would not be worth living.“How about a virtuous woman?” Charlie suggested, risking the perils of an undulating floor in order to cross the room to the sideboard to replenish his glass.“What about her?” Jasper asked. He set down his empty glass on the table beside him. Enough was enough-except that he had probably reached that limit even before leaving White’s. “She sounds devilishly dull, whoever she is.”“Seduce her,” Charlie said.“Oh, I say.” Hal had been sinking
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