He bent a knee to get closer to her body. His hand was warm but his touch was anything but. As if, he was inspecting a statue or a prized artefact for...authenticity.Might as well be wearing a glove, jerk.His hand toying with the triangle-shaped ears on top of her head. He followed her hair with hand down to her cheek then up again and to the back of her neck. He kept it there for a brief moment, no doubt feeling the vibrations of the beaten drums inside her.What?! Checking my pulse now?!He let. That will give me time to get things tidied up at least. If I'm not in the study, I'll be upstairs, tell him.'They exchanged more words as the Reverend got himself into his coat, and then, in the hallway, they pecked each other on the cheek by way of goodbye, Mrs. Grandage not wishing to come to the door in her night-robe.Her husband gone, Mrs. Grandage moved about her tasks with a self-imposed slowness that belied the excitement coursing along her 40-year-old veins. Having cleared away the. More

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