We had been going for about ten minutes when Christine mentioned a reporter at the restaurant. I felt as if I had been doused in ice water. I immediat...ly did a news search on "Sheila Schwartz". Sure enough, there were hits. Biting my lip, I tried "Mistress Cynthia". More hits. By this time Christine and Francine had taken notice. We all took a deep breath when "Sheila Schwartz" + "Mistress Cynthia" turned up empty, but that did not figure to last. Francine summed it up, "Well shit. The rest of. . 'Lost in the scent, Denise Burcham's mind simply hung on that last word, the pearly liquid in her palm held mere inches from her nose.Had she been able, she might have been more than a bit startled by what happened next.The 'soap' in her hand began to move.It slid slowly across her palm, until it rested just below her nostrils. Then, like a dog rearing on its haunches begging for a treat, it started to rise, shaping itself into tendril no larger in diameter than a drinking straw. It continued. They had showered and dressed quickly upon waking earlier as they were so famished. Juliana said that she wanted a longer shower and to change clothes for travelling but noted that there was plenty of time to return to town to check out of their hotel before getting to the airport. Robert had settled himself into a comfortable chair, stretching out to look at her undress. She realized that he was watching and slowed down.He had already felt himself stiffening at the table as he reached down to. Ledstoneopened it, welcoming both inside with a smile and gesture.After Peter briefly explained the situation, the TA asked Isabel to havea seat at his desk near the front of the lab and the 40-year-old metallurgistput on his glasses to have a closer look. Dr. Ledstone pulled his chair closer as Isabel lifted the hem of herlong, black skirt a few inches to afford him a view of her trim ankles, chainednow for just over half a day."And you said you got these where, Peter?" Ledstone asked,looking.