Streamlined, minimalist, functional.Except for one bizarre behemoth in a far corner. “What is this contraption?” I giggled at what looked like a d...constructed chair with a black stack of rectangular weights next to it. “It looks like some medieval interrogation device.”“Leg machine of a more ancient generation. Monstrous, isn’t it? It came with the house; that’s how old it is." He let me go and gestured toward it with a flourish. "Care to try it? Find out how well all that swimming has. "Close the door, would you, Mister Jenkins?" she asked of me in neutral tones. Not wanting the world to hear my chastisement, I was only to glad to do as I was told before returning to my place before the desk. "I hear that you've been a naughty boy, Mister Jenkins, " she started without preamble before pausing and awaiting a reply.I cleared my throat. "I... er... I'm sorry about being late, madam. It... erm... my motorcycle wouldn't start..." This has nothing to do with your perpetual. More

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