Chapter Eighteen
Bondage Benches And Horny Wenches
A few days later, back home in our apartment, I had just settled comfortably into my chair and opened my favorite book to finish the last chapter when there was a knock at the door.
“Who can that be at this late hour?” I asked.
Edward turned around in his desk chair. “Come in.”
Mrs. Blanford, our landlady, swept in with six of her lady friends.
She gasped and shoved her fists against her hips. “Good heavens! Just look at the mess you men have made! Newspapers all over the furniture and chairs, books lying everywhere, leftover scraps on your dinner plates—and the smell of your pipe, Mr. Rand—its dreadful! I won’t put up with this a day longer!”
I was puzzled by the hint of a smile on her face. The other two ladies were trying ineffec
