She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. The phone did not ring. “Muck-headed moral ass! I ought to have done anything. I'm as much astonished as you. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. It feels like I’ve got a snake of mucus stuffing my entire throat, just one big solid rope. "I'll soon free you from these bracelets. Mr.
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