So in the evening, I stood in front of her room at the hotel where she was staying, wearing a neat little leather corset I had borrowed from my friend Stef, with accompanying high leather boots, and just a loose orange batik dress over it, that gave me the look of a s/m hippie chick. I had grinned when I saw myself in the mirror of the elevator and couldn’t wait to see how she would react. Gently, I knocked on the door.It took a while before she opened, looking out through a small cleft. She didn’t recognize me right away and asked: “Yes, what is it?” Instead of an answer I held up my phone with the picture of her face buried in my muff. Her eyes widened. “What the hell?” she asked. “Give me that!” She reached for my phone but I quickly withdrew it out of her reach. “It’s no use,” I said. “I’ve got copies of those stored in all kinds of places.”She glared at me with narrow eyes. “What do you want?” she hissed under her breath. I smiled. “Well, I was just thinking about a continuation. There was no sign of Braxton-Clark, but Maddox, his second, appeared at my shoulder.“Jarvis will be along directly, he has been looking forward to this moment for a year or more.” He cackled with undisguised glee, but I chose to ignore him. About ten minutes later a coach, drawn by a smart team of four bay horses, pulled into the clearing.“Here he is now,” chortled Maddox. “He’s on his way to Hungerford with his wife, and is going to look over what will be his estate when the old earl dies, and Jarvis produces an heir.”“That should be an interesting spectacle,” I said. “It is usually the dam that brings forth the offspring, not the sire.”It was childish response, I know, but anything to take the look of evil joy from off his face, which it did.“Damn your eyes, Greenaway,” he spluttered. “You’ll not be laughing when Jarvis puts a ball in your entrails.”He stomped off to welcome his pederast friend.Surgeon Major Armityge was acting as both surgeon in attendance and referee, and he.
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