She found herself looking sheepishly around the bedroom when a sudden tingle of electricity moved from her groin, fanning out from her belly. She gave her lips to his without resistance. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. “You must not think of me as one. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. May I go on a date tomorrow night with John Diedermayer?\" She did not look at Mike, who she knew would be wounded. “Homely?” “Well, yeah, that’s what he said.
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