“His private rendezvous with Clarice had left him in the oddest of tempers. She had not refused his suit, but neither had she accepted him. ‘Maybe’ and ‘perhaps’ were such foreign concepts to a man who lived his life making unequivocal decisions. ‘At least she didn’t say no,’ he’d muttered to himself as he followed the rest of their group back to the garden party. Now, hours later, he sat, cards in hand, trying to get his mind to focus on a game of whist. He looked across the table a...t his playing partner before making a slow study of the other players sitting on either side of him. All were several glasses of whisky and brandy further into the evening than him. He smiled to himself. How ironic it was that Alex’s marriage had been the spur for David’s recent run of sobriety. Without his drinking partner beside him each evening, he had lost the taste for long evenings of drunken debauchery.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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