McElwee, that I’ve been unable to get your comments out of my mind.” Frank McElwee nodded and took a sip of his whiskey. The Lord Provost’s office consisted of two rooms. Attached to Logan’s office was a small parlor where he sometimes entertained guests. More than one concession had been made in this room, more than one arrangement for the betterment of both parties. The two men sat in the two chairs arranged in front of the fireplace. Each man held a tumbler of whiskey and both stared at the fire as if the answer to their mutual problem was to be found in the flames. “I was very surprised when you asked me to come and speak with you this afternoon.” Logan sat back. “I’ve a personal reason, Mr. McElwee.” The other man glanced at him. “That’s how it normally starts, sir. A woman in your life will challenge all you hold dear.
What do You think about The Witch Of Clan Sinclair?
