"Well, I do need to eat, that soundsgreat."Rika raised an eyebrow as we left. I could only shrug.Apologizing for the rental, she took me to one of the...more upscalerestaurants for lunch. The food, as expected was very good. I had beenthere a few times with different clients and ordered the salmon insteadof the prime rib.Interestingly enough, our conversation remained rather light. We spokeabout people we knew in school, if they kept in touch. She had gone outwest for college, meeting her husband. ." my daughter said again before looking up at us "Why is it okay to include Bridget in your adult fun, and several other people from around the village, but not me?" "What?" my wife replied back looking very shocked, as I was."I'm eighteen mum, i'm an adult, but have you ever invited me to any of your adult fun time, or the next door neighbour parties, No! no, you have not, but Bridget gets to go! she's more part of this family than I am!" Milly said angrily."Oh!" exclaimed my wife before. International, maybe? The cut was entirely Italian; muted with flecks of color. The way the clothes draped the body, it was clear that there was a body - in all probability, a nice body - underneath. The hair and beard were closely cropped black and silver dustings. But, he didn't look that old. They wreathed a mahogany face with strong matching hands. He wasn't that tall - an inch or two taller than she in her stocking feet. She liked that. She liked looking down on her "prey" from the perch. More of the soft, yellow glow he had seen comingfrom the windows now flooded out onto the doorstep. He went inside. He walked through one great hall after another, his wet feet making slappingsounds on the cold, stone floor. The light, he could now see, came from torches,set in sconces in every room he entered. But who had lit the torches? He calledout repeatedly, but no one answered. Every room was empty. Finally, he heard, as if from a great distance, the brittle tinkle of harpsichordmusic..