human
Fie, sir, to wince at a woman’s touch! I must find Joan for you. Ah, there! you’ve taken wounds, the two of you. It is no time for jesting. The Squire told me you were galloping in search of Rupert.
gpt
So we are, said Christopher.
human
This is just a check in our stride.
gpt
As it happens, you were wise to draw rein. A messenger came in an hour ago. The Prince is not in Lancashire, as we had hoped. He is still in Oxford—I can confirm your news on that head—lighting small jealousies and worries. Rupert, a man to his finger-tips, is fighting indoor worries, as if he were a household drudge. The pity of it, gentlemen!