I, Angelique Forget, have arrive in Twillingsgate. I will write in English now as a concession to those who are not cultured enough to comprehend the French language. I do not know how long I will do this but we shall see.

Twillingsgate is a snobby, pretentious little stuff English town with many old buildings, well kept. There are many palatial houses here of the rich, and they must have high ceilings so that these people don't bump their noses!

I am lodge at the Vicar's Inn. It is fairly agreeable. I now plan my strategy. Word is that a terrific row is building at Hoarsbottom mansion, where the stupid sheep, Millie, is being held. The animal rights people are trying to arrange surrender of the sheep to protective custody. I hope they succeed. I want to see the back of that damned sheep as soon as possible.

I will go incognito and observe. I need to get a look at this English bitch, Rutledge, who thinks she is so important.

I am told that the pig, Winston Wellington-Jones, usually comes to the Vicar's Inn in the evenings to drink. I am watching for him.

Malcom, do not despair! Your Angelique is on the way. You are an unfaithful, corrupt, two timing scoundrel and a dog, but I love you!

Angelique