I kept thinking of the man, of his solidity, of his size in the wool coat he was wearing, of the streetlight shining off his bald head and the rim of ...is glasses. Id wanted to touch him, to place my hand on his arm, to feel the warmth of another person. Idiotic, isnt it? Mooning over a stranger. A rude stranger at that. Someone who dismissed a genuine offer of help in such a graceless, abrasive way. By the following morning Id managed to talk myself round a little. I knew I was being foolish,. “Later sir, some privacy if you please!” I demanded and returned my attention to Miss Maitland.“Come away Joe!” the woman urged, “Do you remember when we was their age?” “Aye, I do, round back o’ thee dads privvy,” he confirmed.Some time later after I shot my bolt we descended from the carriage to face her parents.“Daddy highwaymen accosted us and carried poor Miss Flanders away," Miss Maitland or M as I should now refer to her explained.“Carried off Miss Flanders?” he queried, “Why?”“She was. More

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