The accountant is taken aback and says, “That’s too gross. Let’s try to re-phrase that.”The woman says, “OK, I’m a high-end call girl.”�...�No, that still won’t work. Need something more acceptable.”They both think for a minute; then the woman says, “I’m an elite poultry farmer.”The accountant asks, “What does poultry farming have to do, with being a prostitute?”“Well, I raised a thousand cocks last year.”Chartered Acct : “Brilliant!! ‘Poultry Farmer’ it is! and Agricultural Income is. Obviously Liz and Rosy never worried about it and having Daniel around seemed so natural to them that they took it for granted nothing needed to change during his stay."I'll leave you to it then," Liz said as she left "have fun." Just for a moment as he lay there, his mind took him back to the night in June after he and Kate had been out shopping together during the day. He remembered what she said and how he had dressed up that evening creating the exact image of her from that day. He felt. ‘Bob, that bloody woman is driving me wild. She won’t let me put a finger on her.’ ‘I thought you weren’t interested in her.’ ‘I wasn’t, until I found out she’s an inspector in the Commonwealth Taxation Office.’ Bob twitched and cast a guilty eye on the set of opened accounts he was working on. ‘Hellfire and damnation, thanks for the tip off. But I don’t quite see. . .’ ‘Don’t see, you don’t bloody see! I earn my money sweating my guts out in the dust and the flies, and those bastards take. We also had about a half dozen of my most trusted Indian scouts and a couple of black troopers that had stuck with me through thick and thin. I put a grizzled old sergeant in charge of the other group and told him to scout out the lower passage to see if the trail was still sound enough to support our transit. If they were unsuccessful, they were to rejoin us on the plateau shelf still buried in deep snow drifts and we would all attempt the final climb to pass this mountain chain of danger. I.