She smiled, crouching closer, taking hold of his hand with her own. He was momentarily taken aback by the sight of her thick, padded fingertips and th... webbing between her individual fingers. The biology was logical, of course, and the moment of revulsion passed. Instead, he smiled back at her, even as she knelt between his legs, and he could now smell her scent. It was not an unpleasant smell, at least not to Laurentius who spent so much of this life now in the swamps. Indeed, it was. ’ Only two weeks after the funeral, Betsy was lonely and troubled and needed someone in who she could confide. That afternoon she’d gone to the bank to meet the loans manager, at his request. He advised Betsy that the board had decided to call in the mortgage advanced to The Sentinel, now owned outright by Betsy, in sixty days and no extension was possible. ‘Who is the bank’s managing director?,’ Betsy asked. ‘I wish to seek to overturn that decision.’ ‘My father, Reginald Kennedy,’ said the. More

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