Adrian Hawthorne smiled. His former gloominess was gone, replaced by a handsome cheerfulness. Having eaten and drunk well for the past few months with no one to bother him, he had shot up in height and was now almost as tall as Jim Thorne.
His face had filled out, too; he was no longer just skin and bones. However, Adrian Hawthorne had a cold, hard temperament. Even now, with his rosy lips, white teeth, and handsome features, he still gave off the impression of being hard to get along with—a stark contrast to Clayton Xavier, who was as gentle as jade.
Rosalind Green's voice called out that it was time to eat. Adrian Hawthorne smiled and said, "Stay for dinner. We're having venison tonight."
Jim Thorne's eyes lit up. "Did you hunt it?"
"Nope, bought it in the city."
