Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. ‘Alors, you make a game with me, I see that. She cried out in pain, then in pleasure as he thrust himself into her. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. . ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth.
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