“I hope so,” said Linda, her voice tickling me as she took my hand and drew us into the house. A faint grey smoke hovered in the living room, rich with the sweet aroma of incense, smoke and food. The entrance hallway had been fairly well lit, but only dim lights illuminated the other rooms. I counted maybe a dozen people sitting on the sofa, standing by the window, lounging on large throw pillows scattered over the rug.
Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov