”“Fine. Who’s your boss?”“Uh. Who are you, sir?”“I am the customer you don’t give a damn about what I want, X F Marigold.”“I’m s...rry, Mister Marigold. You shouldn’t have heard that. Miz Folsom was wrong to talk once she knew who you are.”“Well, we’re agreed on two things, Winsler. I shouldn’t have heard your rant but, when you are yelling that loudly, it’s hard not to be overheard. Also, I agree that you’re a sorry sack of shit.” I hung up the phone.I muttered, “That sonofabitch can suck my. They also scrunched their noses at the stench. This was July in London after all.Once they arrived at Cheyne Walk, they alighted from the coaches and entered the Tremayne's town house. Orville Thrush and Robert Tremayne had spent untold hours babbling and drooling together as infants, but now they watched each other with deep distrust. Rose and Amanda laughed at their little cockerels and decided to give them more time to warm to each other.Then it was time to tell stories, all the small and. More

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