<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;">My wondering at how things might be truly going is answered by a bitter tirade.  Admittedly, things did not progress as one would hope, but Jaclyn was part of the discussions, more than an equal vote and a willing participant.  Now, she’s spewing and blaming—not her, our fault.  Our fault as if we intended it.<br/><br/>Du Monde seems to have the position of most popular and . . . loving mistress?  <em>Egad!</em><br/><br/><strong>“I would hope that further thought might cause reconsideration.  I hope that you will consider us as being in a better light than how you seem to feel now.”</strong> <br/><br/>I look at Ari.  <strong>“Would you excuse us for a moment Jaclyn?”</strong>  My chair scrapes as I get up.  Ari’s chair scrapes as well.  A short distance away, I look at Jaclyn.  I take Ari’s arm and move him to the interior of the restaurant.  <strong>“A ticking time bomb with multiple fuses it seems.  Agreed?”</strong>  Ari looks as if he’s trying to see Jaclyn through the wall and then looks at me and simply nods.  <br/></span>