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I stopped dead in my tracks."Grace, would you go back and wait with Catherine until I call you?" I asked while I scanned the sniper and then the area around him. I detected another person nearby, with a set of binoculars, but he did not have a rifle."What's going on? Why do you want... ?" Grace started to say. Then, "All right, Michael."I was too busy scanning to reply, and she must have sensed this, for she said nothing else as she went back in the Lodge.They were both dressed in camouflage, and the sniper was lying prone, with a very long rifle in front of him. The rifle was mounted on a bi-pod, and had a big scope attached to the top. He was looking through the scope, and had become slightly excited when he spotted Grace and me leaving the Lodge. His position gave him a good shot at us all the way to the Dining Hall.I found it odd that there were no negative emotions. Neither anger nor agitation about seeing us. Nor was there any real seriousness about what he was doing. He was. She was dressed in a knee length blue denim skirt, a loose pale blue angora jumper with a big roll neck. Lovely face, maybe 34-35, he speculated. Pretty legs, trim figure. Greybeard tried, without making it obvious, to detect the shape of her breasts through the loose folds. The tantalising glimpses, as she moved, made him think hers would be lovely, and Greybeard was an unabashed tit man.They finished their simple meal and she rose to collect his empty plates. "Thank you again, that was delicious," said Greybeard.She refilled their glasses, placed the rest of the bottle by his chair, kicked off her mules and tucked her feet up on the chair. They talkedhappily, discovering about each other. Blondie's casual movements were gradually pushing her skirt up her legs. Greybeard's eyes were attracted to the mysterious dark area where skirt met her legs, Blondie caught him peeping and with a giggle dropped her feet back to the floor.She drained her glass and stretched over to pass her glass.
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