His memory was gone for the last week or so. Why was he drinking. He only drank to celebrate a success.He eyed his coffee cup. It looked like it had b...en there for a bit. He picked it up anyway and took a sip. One-part stale coffee and three parts scotch hit his stomach which informed him he was going to need a pit stop NOW!After twenty minutes of his life that he hopped to never repeat, he was once again sitting at his desk.He wondered when did he buy a half gallon of Scotch?What happened to. Beaseley had beenconfessing himself to Lord Wharton, and therefore did not know of theconnections that existed between Sheila, Beaseley and the witch. Myidentity was still safe.As to whether he still believed that I was simply a servant, thatassumption I adjudged was probably no longer true. Despite hisprotestations of honor and of chivalry, I sincerely doubted that hewould have gone to as much trouble as he did on behalf of a nobody. Thatself-satisfied look on his face was clear confirmation. More

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