What do they want?"Just then, I too began to wipe some perspiration off my arm where one of them had grabbed me. It was disgusting. Cold and clammy ... . . it felt like pins and needles all over my skin."Yuck," Susan said. That lady's hands were all sweaty! My arm feels gross." Me too," I agreed as I tried to wipe my arm with my shirt. But regardless of how much I tried to dry it off, it still tingled from her touch."I've got to go wash my arm off," Susan said as she glanced down at it. . "My wife hardly knows the kitchen from the billiard room," says Lord St. Clair.She smiles politely. "Of course I do - who do you think deals with the staff and our temperamental cook! Now, if you mean I can't cook...you're correct - it's the curse of our class. We can do nothing useful." She turns toward me. "You're very pretty, Miss Reynolds. It's quite a pleasure meeting you. You also are a trained chief, taught - I understand - by the famous M. Calvert. Hardly anyone will credit my tale, as. More

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