Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. “I want to have no distractions. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. Did you know you’re very maternal? Damn, you’re more maternal than my Mom.
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