She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. “Don’t know me, eh? I like that. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man.
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