”Tanvi poured three fingers of Scotch into two tumblers, slid one across to Emily, and lifted the other. “To Clive Whitehall-Stone?”“To Clive ...hitehall-Stone.” Emily clinked glasses. She wasn’t ready to write his epitaph yet. After a long swallow, she coughed. “Christ, that is terrible.”Tanvi put hers aside and shook her head. “I’m told it’s an acquired taste.”“I always suspected Clive drank it just to prove he could.” said Emily. She looked across the bar. “I’m not getting you in trouble by. We followed the river up near its beginnings, actually where the riverboat could go no further. We fished for grayling and caught several but let more go than we kept. After lunch, we started drifting down river still fishing as we went. At dinner time, we pulled into the bank and built a fire to cook our fish for dinner. This time, it was a little more civilized, since we had brought some plates and silverware with us.After dinner, we started the boat and rode back to camp so Dad could say. More

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