’ ‘Your husband?’ Gerald tutted. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. A little Madeira seemed to recover her enough to resume the discussion. It is not for myself I fear. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure. Ever smelled Eternity for Men? I think I smelled it on Josh once. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred.
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