When she smiled at him, Gideon felt simultaneously as though all his insides melted and yet he could quite literally do anything. Was this love, he wondered anxiously, or ought he not have had that scotch before setting out this evening? Impulsively, he moved to rest his hand lightly upon her forearm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, but that served only to make the previous sensation worse and he withdrew the hand as swiftly as it had been given.

Though loathe to tear his eyes from Miss Chevalier's face, Gideon's eyes roved the crowd for any sight of a bright red scarf—

Aha!

That must be Bernard, he thought, looking a the boy in the red scarf not two shopfronts away from them looking at a display of fireworks. More than looking—

"Bernard, no!" he called out.