As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. ” “Well!” “He greeted me effusively. We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. ” John traced his finger over the meeting point of her breast and her ribcage as they lay naked on his unmade bed. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling.
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