Eight per cent. “Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. I think not, Annabel. ’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. She could read that Martin had a crush on her and was perhaps even going to try and challenge John as he was the bold sort. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. It isn’t illusions—for us.
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