As Jane walked along the waking streets of London the next morning, she smiled at her memory of the previous evening.
After their dinner on the bench, Jane and Will chatted for a long time, then strolled alongside the river. Will tried to encourage Jane to dance with him as he sang "By the Light of the Silvery Moon" but Jane was reluctant. She"d shivered as the night air crept inside her insubstantial coat; Will had again offered her the flask that she"d already declined during their meal. "Go on," he"d urged, "one sip won"t hurt, it"ll just warm the cockles." Jane took the flask and tipped it to her lips. The warm but sharp liquid seemed to touch every part of her tongue before it slipped down her throat, leaving a burning warmth in its wake. Jane coughed slightly as she handed the flask
