When she arrived at her own home, Earl was in his room.
"Where have you been?" she asked petulantly.
"Oh, here and there."
"I thought you were involved in that fight in Stockholm."
He shook his head.
She stood in the doorway and watched him leaning over his desk, attempting to write something on a sheet of paper. She was proud of his profile, tow-headed as a boy, handsome in a masculine way. He cracked his knuckles nervously.
"What did you do?" she asked.
Suddenly he flung the pencil down, jumped from his chair and paced the floor. "I talked to an Agent last night," he said.
"Where?"
"Bangkok."