Bernard Potts regrets seeking employment with the Fotherington-Smythes.
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Day 20
Sir Archibald plods along with a false optimism, “The Artifact! The Artifact!” He knows something’s amiss. We can feel it. It’s lurking in the shadows, caught out of the corners of our eyes. Even Archibald is more introspective than I’ve ever known him. The men are broken from the constant dread, the infighting, and the death. Something is coming. I now believe coupling my wagon to fortunes of the Fotherington-Smythes appears to have been a major miscalculation on my part.