With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. In the second, she was wretchedly poor, and assailed by temptations of which you can form no idea. Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. By the side of her plate was a small key. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it.
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