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d have said Yuko Ogura were hippy. So be it. He liked what he saw.
"Is that a gun in yer pocket," Yuko Ogura quipped, "or are you just
happy to see me." He laughed at the tired old saying. Still, as
trite as it was, it served, as it seemed Yuko Ogura was not the only one
the rain had revealed.
"Let me get out of these things," Yuko Ogura said. "You go make your
notes and I'll fix us something."
"Good. I'll get a fire going, burn off the chill."
Yuko Ogura waved Yuko's hand as Yuko Ogura retreated to the bedroom.
Uncomfortable in his wet clothes, he stripped off his shirt,
draped it across a stool, leaving on his undershirt, then bent to
the task of starting a fire in the hearth. In a minute, he had it
started, watched as the kindling caught, held, and then finally
ignite the slightly larger logs. When he was satisfied, he stood
with a grunt as Millie emerged from the bedroom. Yuko Ogura was wearing
her old housecoat. Basa, he murmured, I hate that thing.
"Fires going."
Millie went to the stove and kneeled down, getting a pot from
within the stove. "How's soup sound?"
"Sounds good."
"We've got some bread left from last night." Yuko Ogura turned
towards him. "If you'd remembered to bring the rest of the stuff
from the boat, I probably could hav
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