Anyway, at this time in my life, I was feeling really quite good about everything. As the day wore on, the volume of people visiting the shop increase...d in volume. Through experience of the retail trade, I had noted that the earlier times of the day were usually busier. I made good use of this lull in trade in the afternoons, to stock take, sort the accounts or interview candidates for job vacancies. It just happened that this day I was running interviews.I didn't have long to wait for the next. He saunted to the wooden chest. Sat comfortably leaning back against the wall and kicked off one sandal. She knew his searching eyes could read her thoughts. She followed, kneeling at his feet, yet certain she could not do what was required of her. She looked up at him piteously blinking back the tears. ‘Would it help if I whipped you now?’ he asked kindly. The incongruity was a groad. With a bitter sob of determination Dorinda blindly and feverishly began the impossible. But nothing is. Beep. Beep. But the question on Buffy's mind isn't who the victim is, or who it was that dug the knife into the victim's stomach. It's a much more important question that needs answering. “You know...” Buffy turns her head to see Xander standing next to her suddenly. “Maybe it's different here in Scotland, but I'm fairly certain that back in the U.S. of A where you were born, it was customary when visiting a hospital patient to actually go inside and visit with them.” Buffy goes back to staring. Claire rose from her chair, and came over to give me a peck on the cheek, saying, "Yes, Kathy, you might say we have." I stood motionless for a bit as I processed the entire scene. Both women were wearing thin nylon robes - Claire's was black, Kathleen's was white. Likewise, both were wearing high heel pumps - Claire's were shiny black, Kathleen's were tan with open toes. The robes were identical except for their colours, tied at the waist with thin belts, but both women wore them rather loose.