’ she spat. ‘Whose baby is that?’ he demanded, his voice low and deadly and she looked at him in shock and disbelief. Was he actually questionin... her because of a letter? She would not dignify his insulting question with an answer. She turned away from him and he grabbed her arm. ‘You better fucking answer me Jezebel.’ ‘Let go.’ she said her anger really growing. She had tried to be some what civil, but now she was just plain pissed off. ‘I can’t believe you would fall for this shit,’ she shook. "Sir Bristow's faced became still more florid. "I don't believe it. You fail to see the woman's talents behind the colour of her skin.My hackles rose. I have worked with those of all racial origins and hold none in lower esteem than any other, preferring to judge the individual by their deeds rather than their complexion. I got to my feet but Harwell held me back."That is a scurrilous remark, Sir Bristow, and one which you will retract if you wish the Institute to benefit from my good friend's. More

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