She gripped the plates tightly in her hands and carefully transferred them from the dining room to the kitchen. She washed, tidied, and returned the kitchen to a state of cleanliness. Switching off the light, she went in search of Rob. He had moved from the dining room to the drawing room and had taken up residence in his favourite armchair. A small footstool was by his feet, and it was on its embroidered surface that Casey gingerly placed her bottom. Rob did not comment on her discomfort. If it became too much, she would simply lie on her belly on the rug nearby and rest her elbows on a cushion. Usually the couple would read post-dinner, and sometimes they talked. The choice was Rob’s to make, and she waited patiently for him. As he had promised, he intended to discuss something of his past, and Casey wondered what she was about to find out about her mysterious professor. When Rob finally began his story, she listened attentively, perched on her stool.
