“Sorry, Ms Leghari,” I apologised, again using the honorific and not feeling diminished by doing so – even if I would cringe when I recalled doing so later. “I was… I was… just admiring your feet.”
There was one of those charged pauses then, and I kicked myself for being so forward and, worse, truthful.
Worried too that she might take offence at my forwardness – she was, after all, or at least appeared to be, devoutly religious.
I would not want to find myself on the street, after all.
Then, as if to give credence to my fears:
“Are you trying to mock me?” she asked, tone about as cold and unfriendly as I could recall from her and, shamefully, fetching butterflies to my stomach.
“N-No,” I defended myself, arms going wide to underline my sincerity. “I meant every word. You truly do hav
