*Jack*
The clothes were a mistake, a dreadful mistake, because I’m forced to admire the lovely shape of her bottom as we stand in line waiting to enter the Crystal Palace. She must have had her maid bind her breasts, because she is as flat as a board in that shirt. Or maybe it’s the way the jacket hangs over it. The too-short jacket that lets me see her trouser-clad bum.
We look like three mates searching for adventure. Or at least she and Hunter look like lads. I look more like their father. I feel old and cynical. I’ve never before minded my harsh outlook on life, except now it makes me feel ancient, while she and Hunter are filled with wonder, and we haven’t even gotten into the building yet.
I’ve never seen her eyes filled with such merriment. Every now and then, she bends down and
