Agnes, although twelve years his senior, was trim and attractive. He took a seat on her lounge and she handed him a small flagon of a sweet beverage. ...he sat beside him and put her hand on his bare leg. "I was afraid you would not yield to the needs of two old matrons like us." Her hand was tracing a pattern of light strokes from his knee to the hem of his skirt like garment. The garment itself, as if by magic, had begun to rise. Her hand slowly slid under the hem and she was pleasantly. “I cannot think of a time, that I have ever heard him say it, to you myself.” then taking a drink of my wine. “That is because he waited till it was just him and I alone, or in a room lone, because he didn’t like to tell or show, those things like that, out where just anyone could see it, or hear us.” “What if you told him you love him, out in a room, where others could hear it?” “He would look at me and either whisper or wait till we were alone, then say ‘That is to be said in privet not in. More

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