“That’s what we narcs have to do. Now she drags me to Mass twice a week, and I have to be in the Church Youth Group on Tuesday nights where we study the Bible and play sports games with each other. ” She looked at him, pleading, miserable in her fancy gown. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. He remained talking with her however. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address.
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