“That’s a beautiful manicure,” I said. “I’m glad I took the bullet and was the one to break a nail on the can.”“Did you? I’m sorry. An... thanks.”“I was kidding. About the broken nail, not about the manicure. Where are you from, Whitney?”“The Louisiana Bayou,” she said. “I’d pick your accent as being Middle America. Iowa, Missouri, Nebraska, Kansas. Close?”“Dead on. How’d you know?”“I’m planning to study Linguistics. I listen to how people talk.” I chortled a little. “You laughin’ at my. Although I normally would not allow smoking in my car, I told her ‘ no problem’.We drove, Carol giving directions, and drove the several miles to my house. We arrived at her house, a well secluded Victorian mansion, in its own substantial grounds.I parked the car in her drive, and we got out of the car. Carol opened the door, and we went into a vast hall, and she then led me to an equally vast lounge. ‘Do take a seat, help yourself to a good whiskey, and a cigar if you like, I need to change’As. More

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