It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. ‘Now, madame, tell me all about your life in France. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. ’ He bowed. She felt his crotch through his jeans. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. "Not the sort of stories young ladies should read. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell.
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