Chapter 18

Richard opened his fourth bottle of imported whisky and poured a generous portion in his cup, he gobbled it down ignoring the burning sensation lingering in his throat.

He was feeling as bleak as he did every other day since the past week. He walked around his friends' study glancing through some books before slumping on a sofa. He instantly recognised the chair, he had taken Ann there almost a fortnight ago, and he surged quickly inspecting for any sign of blood. There was a tard bit, although it was almost invisible on the black chair, he pour in some of his drink and began brushing it off with the tail of his coat. He felt so crude for not been able to give her the decency of losing her innocence in his own home.

Richard had retreated to his accommodation that night and had at once immersed himself with his work, he had spent the week giving attention to all his business ledgers that he had left hanging whilst his frequent stay at home. H

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