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And Sean, someone who wanted to know her carnally. As we’d left the house at six-thirty that Monday morning, these four unexpected house guests had still all been soundly asleep as Sue and I jumped into the cab and headed to JFK. Sue might as well have been asleep. I’d wanted to talk to her about what had happened on Sunday night and to discuss the next three weeks. But she was pretty much dead to the world, barely awake as she snuggled up next to me in the back of the cab. I tried to get a conversation going, but virtually all I could do was get across a very basic message; please, let’s not let anything happen before we’ve had a chance to talk about it. I think this message got through. But honestly, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. And my lack of certainty that my message had landed with Sue was only amping up my worries and need to talk to her. As I looked at my watch I realized we’d already been flying for thirteen and a half hours. But it was still half an hour before we’d be. Horace went into the main hall, took a cigar from his pocket, pondered about it, then put it away again. There was no one in the hall at that moment to look at, but he’d heard about this place from that perv’ Arkwright who lived in the village. Arkwright had said the place was teeming with effeminate homosexual talent, and he’d recently had a fine old romp with one of the residents. They were probably all the same here, Horace thought. All gagging for it. Gagging for a tall, lean, horny guy like himself to give them a good sordid memory. He’d never been with a man before, much less with one who wore a frock, but why disqualify himself from trying it? Horace Weevil and his sensibilities could be accused of many things but lack of direction wasn’t one of them. When opportunity offered, he took it, especially if it was connected with something he’d always been curious about. After a moment he took a leisurely stroll down a passage that led to the kitchen, bidding his time and in no.
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