Butthe skin feels smooth. Where am I anyways? It's not my place, is it? No, Ican tell it's not my room. For some reason I just know. Butwhose then? Ma...be he can tell me I think to myself as Iwalk to the sleeping figure on the bed. "Um, hello?" I say to him, slightly surprised at myvoice. Is that my voice? It sounds so... wrong. I don'treally sound like that do I? That's a woman's voice, andI'm not a woman, am I? But I am a woman. I've always beenone. "Do you know where I am?" I asked the. ' she thoughtAs most couples appeared in the breakfast room the Officer would politely provide a plate of breakfast to his companion of the night. Lady Johnson thought that some women looked as though they were at least contented with what had happened, while her friend, Vicky Carmichael, positively glowed. When their eyes met, they smiled at each other.When General von Buelow came down to breakfast his red-haired companion looked very unhappy and tired, and was draped in a sheet held together. More

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