( she draws his hand to her, and kisses his palm, lightly, bright-eyed. pleased. one could hardly imagine her to have been the same woman pacing this same room an hour beforehand, vexed beyond measure and biting off words she was mostly sure she would regret if she did not. now she is the warm sun, anticipating satisfaction. )

Don't think me presumptuous, then— ( or do, feel free to, she is, ) —or in undue haste, but as we have established you will not come between us as a wedge, might I propose having you between us in a more literal sense?

( she is partial to the idea of having marcus rowntree. on bare feet, she goes to her desk; the bottom drawer and its false back that had presumably at one stage held the secrets of office and these days julius at least knows to mainly contain a few things she's acquired discreetly for their use, the most relevant of which being a jar of oil he might correctly presume is what she's decided to fetch. )