"About eleven, I guess."
"Stay all night with me."
"I want to, darling."
"Then..."
"It's not so easy..."
"Cases?"
"Kiss me ... let's not think ... go on kissing ... unbutton my dress ... kiss my breasts..."
Snuggled together, they listened to wind and rain attack windows and doors and roof. Claude checked the fires, and said good night. They were, for all their passion, fighting mental fatigue, fatigue that had been accumulating for months.
"Let's lie on the floor near the fire," he suggested.
"No ... we'll go to your room..."