?Come on Freddie,? he said. ?You know I never drink with customers.?Freddie looked apologetic. ?Sorry,? he said. ?I guess you’ve got other things on...your mind right now, too.??Haven’t we all?? Rick nodded towards the open door of the caf?. Outside the streets were quiet except for the not so distant thump of German artillery. The sound of the shell fire was louder, closer, than it had been that morning. Clegg looked down at the milky coloured drink, pondering for a few moments whether he. "Yakhir glanced around for the old stuffed chair that was always available for guests to the Archivist's study, but all he saw was a straight backed plaswood chair of another era; it had probably been repatriated from one of the storage vaults. He sat down, keeping his eyes only a desk level. He felt the sweat on his back where it pressed into the chair. As the Archivist deliberately made him sit in silence waiting to be noticed, Yakhir kept his face carefully relaxed and blank."Your personnel. More

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