”“Fine,” said Quentin. He knew the spot well, having spent a happy hour there watching the slave-girls move about the decks. Or scrubbing them.�...�Alright with you, Mr Svenson?”“Yes... thank you Madame Vesta. I look forward to it.”“We can’t go on calling you Mr Svenson,” smiled Madame Vesta.“My name if Gunnar,” said Svenson.“Gunnar,” they said together, nodding politely. By then the wine was flowing with considerable freedom and Quentin noticed that the Swede was now caressing Birgit’s bottom. He wanted the veterans who would be the officers to do the organizing, though, and they didn’t usually know their neighbors.If the experience of Deb’s old school carried over to the new schools that the state Board of education had established, however, the people around those schools knew each other.He’d go to Montgomery and ask Pearson for the list of those townships. Then, he’d get the grant records for the townships in the right counties. If the Board of Education was establishing a hundred. More

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