It was quiet, apart from the rustle of leaves in the trees and the occasional hoot of an owl. Miles from anywhere, she slept easily with a window ope... for cool air and the back door ajar so her cat could come and go. There was a creak; the wind bending the branches of the trees outside, or the soft step of a foot on an aging floorboard. She slept on, unaware, bare breasted to the night. In fact, when the soft brush of her bedroom door across her carpet whispered into the air, she still. He shook his head with a comforting smile. This was not from an unworldly generosity of moral understanding or mere Christian forgiveness, but cold (or rather, hot) hard life experience. He might be plenty of things, he thought to himself, but not a hypocrite. Inwardly, he considered all the recent children of middle-aged squires in the district of Lesser Witteringly that might potentially bear the distinct stamp of the Whitmore features. He cleared his throat.“Of course I don’t,” he said.. More

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