C17 Chapter Sixteen

"The man's need to be outstanding is fundamental, Mr. Abram."

Lord Tennyson was saying, pouring himself a cognac.

"Please, have a seat."

He pointed and Oliver took the chair opposite the desk.

"A drink?"

"No, thank you, Sir."

It was a little after eleven.

The lord came forward and leaned against the side of the desk, crossing his feet at the ankles