Once outside, she ran towards the playground, and the grotto, a miniature limestone version of the manor, which was in itself a miniature of a fortress. Hoped you'd not be retaken. . It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. ” She had no way of retaliating, so she made a decision. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. Just. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. And the less “anything” happened the better. 84 < 12 > A SECOND DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER “Ding dong.
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