" Have you found out what she's going fer yet?" asked Stamford. It was a midterm later, and we sat outside the Astronomy's Observation classroom, discussing Ms. Elise Escott.
I shook my head and stamped my feet. No matter what the major, seven o'clock in the winter is no time to have a class. "No. At first I thought she was headed towards a medical profession, she talks a lot about the sciences at least. But now...I'm not so sure. Her job here's not any easier. She doesn't write to the paper."I waved a copy of the Mountie as proof. "And no one I've talked to at the places around here has worked with her, not the Grill, the Café, the Express Stops, or the Book Rac. "
"Well have you met any of her friends, asked one a them?"
" I dun think she has any friends as such. But she has had a whole mess of guests, all different sorts : some homeless man, one of those railway porters, a Catholic priest, a beady-eyed man she called Rowlands."
"Narc" grumbled Stamford. I ignored him.
" Yesterday the guest was a young lady. " I didn't say more, I'm sure my face did the rest of the talking, because the next words out of Stamford's mouth were.
"OoooOOOOOH!"
"You've got a sick mind do you know that?"
"Did she introduce you to this vision of loveliness" he joked "I remember you an' the gals at the High School."
"No such luck here. When "Ms. Escott " has her "visitors" our third room becomes off limits to me. Don't get me wrong I mean, she very apologetic about it and everything."
"You try listening at the door?"
"Oh gimme a break!"
"It's the only way you're going to find out anything...short of asking her to her face....Why ain'tcha done tha' anyway?"
" I don't want to. I want to figure her out for myself. There's nothing I like better than a good mystery."
I shook my head and stamped my feet. No matter what the major, seven o'clock in the winter is no time to have a class. "No. At first I thought she was headed towards a medical profession, she talks a lot about the sciences at least. But now...I'm not so sure. Her job here's not any easier. She doesn't write to the paper."I waved a copy of the Mountie as proof. "And no one I've talked to at the places around here has worked with her, not the Grill, the Café, the Express Stops, or the Book Rac. "
"Well have you met any of her friends, asked one a them?"
" I dun think she has any friends as such. But she has had a whole mess of guests, all different sorts : some homeless man, one of those railway porters, a Catholic priest, a beady-eyed man she called Rowlands."
"Narc" grumbled Stamford. I ignored him.
" Yesterday the guest was a young lady. " I didn't say more, I'm sure my face did the rest of the talking, because the next words out of Stamford's mouth were.
"OoooOOOOOH!"
"You've got a sick mind do you know that?"
"Did she introduce you to this vision of loveliness" he joked "I remember you an' the gals at the High School."
"No such luck here. When "Ms. Escott " has her "visitors" our third room becomes off limits to me. Don't get me wrong I mean, she very apologetic about it and everything."
"You try listening at the door?"
"Oh gimme a break!"
"It's the only way you're going to find out anything...short of asking her to her face....Why ain'tcha done tha' anyway?"
" I don't want to. I want to figure her out for myself. There's nothing I like better than a good mystery."