Susan’s sabre was now just pricking his throat.“Foncimane!” the Comte addressed the other man. “Do something!”“I am your fencing instructo..., Comte, not your assassin. Bravo young lady! I do not think I could have done that myself.”Hermione was gently fending off the dog which now had it’s nose firmly sniffing at the same level, but had moved to the front. Susan had backed off slightly, but still had the sabre raised. The Comte wasn’t sure whether to attend to his wounded buttock, or massage his. " I don't usually do this," she said shyly, "but would you like to come over to my place for drinks?"That was easiest of all to agree with."Je serais très heureux, ma chérie," said Mitt in a confident, yet gentlemanly voice. "Let me just clear up my calendar for this evening. There were some calls, but they are less important than spending time with such a charming woman." He saw her eyes glow at the compliment. She was already so cheerful and happy; he had the feeling that the joys of this. More

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