<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/4474/fy1ijwqfvup45ew6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Peter Warcaof</span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">CGDA Benefactor</span></strong></div></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><em>Hee-hee!</em>  It seems that Miss Silk is a palliative for Jaclyn.  A shopkeeper finds us out and away, explaining that ‘our two’ will be taking tea, that we can leave our post and head off.<br/><br/>Tea indeed!  <strong>“Ari, it’s tea for the ladies.  That just has to be a Miss Silk suggestion.”</strong>  <br/><br/>I feel very lighthearted with this development.  Bravo! <em>Hee-hee!</em>  <strong>“Tea!  Dontcha know?”</strong>  <em>kawf-kawf!</em>  I roll my eyes, <strong>“Not even close to a Brit accent, cockney or otherwise, but Miss Silk may be the key to our Jaclyn finding her way out of the dark woods, the very dark forest.”</strong>  <br/><br/>Ari nods, shaking his head ruefully at my poor accent, but quickly turns heel and heads for the exit, to a pub perhaps?<br/><br/><em>Hee-hee!</em>  Ari is like an old barn horse, taken for a lope, then seeing the barn accelerates.  Yes, I suspect we are headed for a pub.  <strong>“I’m right behind you Ari.”</strong>  <br/></span>