An Evening at Home

It was with a feeling of depression that I saw one of the secret service cars came out of the shadows to pick me up.

Reluctantly I got into the car. I could still not be sure if the Duce had absorbed the scene at my house or whether he would start to think about it later. I was certain, however, that Mandy Butter was in no doubt about what had been going on. It was with some misgivings that I anticipated returning home.

I doubted if my lady friend would bring a worldly, European attitude to the situation.