Michelle burst into laughter, followed by John, who almost spit up his cola. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. “You would be wise to loosen your purse-strings, Gianfrancesco. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. "That's a good story, lad. See paragraph 1.
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