Chapter Twenty-Three
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Fog“Well, I wasn't expecting that, was you?” said Merryweather.
“I'm way beyond surprise.”
“Really.”
“What else is left?”
“Indeed.”
“Maybe she needs a little space, either that, or she's sick of you already. I'd angle towards the latter, but who knows.”
“Must be a woman thing.”
“You aren't very good with women are you?” I said.
“Says you! And you stole that line from me.”
I just shook my head in dismay.
“I'm getting rather sick of this fog.” Merryweather took an idle swipe at the gloom as though swatting a lazy fly.
“Talk about changing the subject.”
“I live on a whim, what do you expect.”
“Not much.”
“Oh, tee-hee, my sides are splitting.”
“Watch your stitches.”
Walter pulled a face and stuck out his tongue. “Fancy a wander?”
“Where?”
“After the
