And a complete bugger to clean.But for all the feeling of home that Misty Cottage usually held for me, and the memories and echoes of evenings hanging...tense in the air, there was something… “lost” about it now. It was like something tangible hovering in the air, almost, but not, like smoke. Like the thick, rolling fog was creeping under the doors. It was as if somebody was about to walk into the sitting room, but were waiting, sniggering around the corner at my growing fear and discomfort, or. He reached across and slapped at the alarm clock one time, silencing it. “Morning, June,” he mumbled.“Mmmmmm,” June said, entwining her arms around her husband. In a low, sleep husky voice she purred, “Ward, I think you were a little rough on the beaver last night.”Ward looked stern as he always did when delivering a moral or lesson. “Sorry, June. But when a man feels really special about a woman, even his wife, sometimes he has to express it in ways that are a little decisive.”“Oh, I certainly. More

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