The Physician did his mischief, as I waited outside the door. XXX Annabel was in the hallway, “Mr Thompsett, why you look quite decomposed,” she declared. “But you still want me?” she asked hopefully. I let Annabel talk, she could barely string two sentences together coherently, flitting from flowers to butterflies and such like, quoting Latin names of the most unlikely nature as if by rote. “Maybe the new owners?” Blatchington queried. It seemed most odd on reflection, but as I advanced she made no attempt to escape, indeed her hand stole to her exposed breast, perhaps to cover it again perhaps to arouse herself but again I paid no heed as I eased her thighs wide apart. I stepped away from the window pulled on my tie and waistcoat and checked my appearance
