“Miss Grant, that is not the cane!” yelped Kane, moving away from Miss Grant’s wandering hands. For a blind woman she seemed awful aware of where certain…things were located on Kane’s anatomy.

“I’m sorry, Detective...” she replied, not sounding sorry at all.

“Quite, alright…” he bit out, smoothing the wrinkles in his khakis as if trying to rid himself of her touch. “Now tell me again what happened.”

“Well, Miss Blue, Miss Blaine and myself went out for tea over by Berresford and Bengleton’s. You know that divine little bistro over in Serling Square?”

“I’m familiar with it, yes.”

“Well, there was this peculiar little gypsy man there and he said we were ‘to pay for our worst offences’. We laughed of course.

“But as I prepared to check my face in the mirror, I found I could not see!”

“NO MORE GOSSIP !” screamed Miss Blue.

“And poor Miss Blaine…she was quite the chatterbox before all this…”

Kane stroked his chin, looking quite debonair. It wasn’t much, but it was something.