Opula and Kate were having itchy ears all through the hours Rod Benson spent at the villa. And although I had stayed in my chamber with Salsa yet the young chef never for once settled down without peeping through the window to see if Rod and Fanny were still discussing at the dining.
“You don’t seem to be at rest. Anxiety has clouded your eyes ever since Rod got in,” I said to Salsa who was busy fixing some fresh fruit juice, which I had not seen her make for a while now.
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