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"
Don
’
t
mention
it
.
"
I
went
to
the
cabinet
and
surveyed
the
bottles
racked
there
.
A
bottle
of
fifteen
-
year
-
old
single
malt
suggested
itself
.
I
uncorked
it
,
sniffed
at
the
neck
of
the
bottle
and
picked
out
a
tumbler
.
Keeping
my
eyes
on
my
hands
as
they
poured
,
I
said
,
"
Have
you
been
waiting
long
?
"
"
About
an
hour
.
Oumou
Prescott
told
me
you
’
d
gone
to
Licktown
,
so
I
guessed
you
’
d
be
back
late
.
Did
you
have
some
trouble
?
"
I
held
onto
the
first
of
mouthful
of
whisky
,
felt
it
sear
the
internal
cuts
where
Kadmin
had
put
the
boot
in
and
swallowed
hastily
.
I
grimaced
.
"
Now
why
would
you
think
that
,
Mrs
.
Bancroft
?
"
She
made
an
elegant
gesture
with
one
hand
.
"
No
reason
.
Do
you
not
want
to
talk
about
it
?
"
"
Not
particularly
.
"
I
sank
into
a
huge
lounger
bag
at
the
foot
of
the
crimson
bed
and
sat
staring
across
the
room
at
her
.
Silence
descended
.
From
where
I
was
sitting
she
was
backlit
by
the
window
and
her
face
was
deep
in
shadow
.
I
kept
my
eyes
levelled
on
the
faint
gleam
that
might
have
been
her
left
eye
.
After
a
while
she
shifted
in
her
seat
and
the
ice
in
her
glass
clicked
.
"
Well
.
"
She
cleared
her
throat
.
"
What
would
you
like
to
talk
about
?
"
I
waved
my
glass
at
her
.
"
Let
’
s
start
with
why
you
’
re
here
.
"
"
I
want
to
know
what
progress
you
’
ve
made
.
"
