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On what she must focus she couldn’t have said specifically, only that she did not feel in control of the current and varied pathways her mind wandered along – five or six simultaneously and many of them contrary to her directed attempts at poise and appropriate demeanor, whatever that was. She sat with her back to the wall at a table in the far corner of the restaurant, facing the door. She regularly questioned her decision to face the door because, while she would know when he entered and not be startled, and she ALWAYS preferred to have her back to the wall as if the world meant to stab her in it, she would also see the recognition register on his face as soon as his eyes met hers, and the anticipation of that moment made her feel a little sick in her stomach. The thoughts that flitted through her mind were diverse and quick, hard to pin down. One was, ‘What if he insists on paying for my food?’ and another was, ‘I wonder if I messed up my eyebrows when I rubbed my forehead a. ‘Now how did I know it would be you hiding in here?’ Madame ‘Erotique’. I breathe a sigh of relief. Any of the other girls might have just handed us in then and there. Thankfully, we were well acquainted – not that the harsh slap across the face I soon received made that completely noticeable. ‘Why were the marshals at my doorstep then?’ Hands to hips, she pressed in closer – it was difficult to maintain eye contact with a lady slightly shorter than I (for a 6’3′ gentleman, at the very least) without catching sight of that rather extensive chest. 34GG, if I recall, and nicely contained within a silver-bone corset, red and black silk which led down to a long, frilled dress style – not to mention, those glorious thighs. ‘I’m sure they were mistaken. That’s all. But, just in case, perhaps we could make an enquiry on your vacancies?’ I could only imagine Maraldi’s face as I said that, given his reply. ‘How classy of you, Silvanus – hide out in a whorehouse, why don’t we?’ I was.
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