Manuel had worked for many 'Nort Americanos' on archeology digs. Most of them were good employers. They paid well and on time but they were also often...condescending. Manuel spoke English, but not as well as some of his employers preferred. He understood the language very well though and knew when he was being talked down to. He liked this professor. Professor Frost spoke the language like a native and even knew the Incan words that had crept into the Peruvian version of Spanish. The Professor. Hours went by as the dogs bayed and horns called, then it was still, and he faced the doe panting in a bind. The forest floor swiftly giving way to a steep ravine at her feet. Her body shaking, his too as they looked at each other, and then the dogs and the look of fear as she turned and was trapped. The Duke rode forth and dismounted, unsheathing his knife, and the men had arrows at the ready. He edged his horse closer needing to watch. Dark eyes begging, her skin sweat flecked, and the Duke. ‘I knew it! You don’t really care about me! You…’ He rolled on his side, his back to her, and began to sob. ‘Dennis!’ Lois said. She was a bit surprised by how strongly he was reacting. ‘That’s not true! I care very deeply for you, but…’ She slid over and put her arm around him. ‘It’s just that I’m so much older than you are and…’ ‘What difference does that make?’ Dennis mumbled. ‘I don’t care how old you are. I love you. I don’t want to lose you. If…if I lose you I think I’ll die.’ ‘I…I don’t. She is clearly agitated."Why can't they understand? I really goofed today. Now it's going to take even longer," she berates herself while gesticulating wildly at no-one in particular. She seems totally oblivious to the fact that she is driving down a highway. "Don't they realize the thing is driving me nuts!" She replays the group therapy session of that afternoon over and over in her mind. "Everybody seems to be only interested in what you are wearing - as if a skirt, foundation or.