When he had satisfied himself, the wench caught her breath and smiled gratefully down, then bowed, and came around to Gallance. Her master milked her with a comfortably savage negligence, making her gasp and whimper as her stretched teats squirted wildly, and then he dismissed her. An unobtrusive servant bustled about drying the Captain’s hands and his cup and saucer with silk handkerchiefs, and then the Captain and Gallance sipped at their coffee in the comfortable glow of satisfied bellies and satisfied c***s.
“Well,” sighed the Captain after a while, “I say again, sir, you set a very fine table.”
“Oh, it is nothing sir,” replied his host with an easy, self-deprecating little bow.
“Still, Marquis,” persisted the Captain quietly, returning to his earlier thoughts, “I wonder if you may
