When Kylie awakened she was cold and alone, on the thin rug in front of an empty fireplace. Without the dancing flames, and by the light of day, the location seemed much less romantic. She sighed and then stood up slowly, plucking her clothes from the makeshift rack and putting them on. She picked up the blankets off the floor and arranged them on the armchairs, and then shifted the chairs back to their original position. No sense to leave such glaring evidence of their crime of passion.
As she was fussing about the blankets, two sets of footsteps appeared outside, and the door opened and closed. She looked up as Logan came in, followed by a greying man with horn-rimmed glasses and a fisherman's hat.
“Here she is,” Logan was saying. “John, this is Kylie. Kylie, I'd like you to meet John.
