CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Now, despite the fact that last night you were that far towards drowning in your cups, you refused, I want you to tell me something.”

Despite the fact she never ate breakfast, Destiny set two cups of sweet, hot, chocolate coffee and herself down at the table. Where else but in the trembling cold of the dining room? Some might say they were without servants, it was doubtful Orwell had noticed the fact, although he did raise his head and stare at her, as best he could anyway given that staring and staring straight were two different things where he was concerned.

“Know? Old girl?”

“Yes.”

“What about?”

“What do you think?”

Of course the chances were Orwell had probably forgotten he’d been in the corridor last night, let alone that he’d accosted her, probably forgotten who she was for that matter. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well?”