Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying becaus... there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.“Information, please,” I said into the mouthpiece. It was very secluded and never meant to be accessible to the public. Shasta had been in there a few times when the master wasn't there. She was still uncomfortable in his presence or even to be in an area he frequented. When Shasta first saw this room she had been amazed at the starkness and its severe functionality. For the most part the walls were bare with the exception of a number of bookshelves filled to overflowing. The desk was smaller than the one Nesho was presently sitting at and. More

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