'—'They can't,' says I. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. There are pretty much three types, those that accept, and those who run away, and those who fight. . ” He looked into her pale blue eyes. An uncomfortable silence followed. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments.
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