Mom gave straight teasing looks as though checking out on me. I could stare only a little when she did that.‘After you are finished join me at my ro...m, I’ll just go on terrace to get the dried clothes.’She is a beautiful woman, I thought watching her from her back as she went upstairs.I went to her room and sat down on the study table without knowing what to do. Soon, Mom came in.‘What Sundroo, will you not study, go get your books,’ she said.By the time I returned she had been folding clothes.. The windows were covered so that he couldn’t see into the house. As the first light of morning struck the house, John could see more details. There were spy holes of the kind that are normally in the door of house scattered on the walls of the whole house. There were a number of slots cut into the walls and covered by boards. He could tell they were there so that whoever was in the house could shoot out without exposing themselves. He whispered into the microphone that the FBI had given him, to. ..but now I'm losing my patience." Can-can I have a towel, Trix--" But Bronte's plea was rudely interrupted as Trixie slapped her viciously. "I'm Miss Watson," Trixie pointed to Ed, "This is Mister Cullen and you know Mister Soames who you were drooling over last night."Actually it had been Soames who was ignoring Trixie and gazing nearly obsessively at Bronte, who had only made polite conversation. Thinking of it now, Soames realized that Trixie might have been a bit jealous.And sure...Trixie. In fact, thelatter had become such a distraction that Joel's number one suspicion onany conditioning Ian might not have mentioned was that he was 'freakinghorny' or something to that effect.In light of this state of mind, he'd gone back to his notes. Or,attempted to, before realising that he'd left a disorganised messthroughout the rooms he worked in. He'd written them as a kind of loosejournal, as well as noting important findings - but, trusting his usuallyimpressive memory, had failed to.