"That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. Jonathan, however, still lingered. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. "What was it?" He was insistent. ” He retorted smartly, looking at her with mischief. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. “If only because of the way one hurts others if one kicks loose and free, one has to submit. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain.
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