He could smell the alcohol on her breath and he knew that she had quite a headstart on him."Just what the doctor ordered," he said looking over her tr...m figure. She was clad in a pair of french cut beige gabardine pants and a pure silk beige silk shirt tied under her breasts and left unbuttoned sufficiently to reveal the cleavage fully exposed and the upper surfaces of her upthrusting breasts swelling out provocatively. There was no underwear line visible under the blouse or the slacks.The. She’d been a plant, set among us to root out the loose-tongued. I parachuted into France in June 1943. My papers identified me as Jeanne Lasainte and as a nurse and midwife. I was lodged with a doctor and his wife in Normandy, far enough, it had been decided, from Metz as to render it most unlikely that I’d meet anyone I’d known there. I’d been given a crash course in nursing and midwifery but I dreaded the thought of actually having to deliver any babies. The choice of occupation gave me more. Both mine and Preeti’s clothes were in the hall, and it was Sowmya at the door. Preeti had to answer the door quickly, else Sowmya would use her key to enter.Preeti quickly ran to the hall naked, grabbed the clothes, and brought them to the room. We both were silent and could hear Sowmya enter the house. Preeti draped herself in a towel as if coming out of a shower and went to the hall.After 5 minutes, she returned, it was Sowmya, and she had come to collect some stuff. Sowmya left in a few. Devon- let the horses drink. Riley- if the new slave doesn’t run let him was out those cuts and drink. If he runs, I’ll tie him back to the wagon and he can run some more.’ The two slaves obeyed, and Drake was brought over to the nearby stream. He sank down in the cold water, thankful for the numbing affect it had on his scrapes. He drank as much as he could, then laid in it. He didn’t even consider running, knowing he’d spend the rest of the journey dragging behind the wagon. Who even used.