Towards the end of the dance she whispered in my ear, “Be nice to Pim tonight. It’s her birthday and she needs a man to make her feel good. Do you...understand.” I looked at Cindy and said I would do my best. Cindy looked at me sternly and said, “Don’t just do your best Rob. Make Pim feel like a woman. She needs something to pick her up.” Well, the evening wore down and we said goodbye to the girls and went to Pim’s car. There was very little traffic this late at night so we made it home quickly. There was much ado about the lack of a proper heir to the lord’s fortune. Distant relatives were constantly besieging the attorneys for the estate with petitions for sharing in the vast sums of wealth sitting dormant in secure spaces in the vaults of several large financial institutions deep in the bowels of the London seat of commerce.*The diminutive Mother Superior of the Order of the Convent of Saint John was reading the lengthy letter recently received from the postal facility in Portsmouth. More

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