A local agent secured the property for us and, the matter resolved to our mutual pleasure and satisfaction, we returned to London and to Mistress Pickles. The day of our ‘marriage’ dawned and Maria and I were not allowed to see each other. I was an honoured guest in Mistress Pickles’ apartments and Jenkins and the seamstress attended to my toilette and my dressing. I wore fine silk bloomers such as I had never felt but on the highest born guest of the household. The fabric caressed my thighs and the ribbons at the knees, above white silk stockings, glistered in the candlelight. A tightly laced corset of white satin clenched my waist and then three petticoats and then the dress, oh, and such a dress it was. It shone and gleamed and shimmered as it was held over me and lowered, buttoned and hooked into place until I, feeling like the Queen herself, was led to a mirror to wonder at the generosity and kindness of my Mistress. The final glory was a ring of white flowers from which a veil. At the same time, Holly's fingers tightened on his knee. "It's okay", she promised. "Really. This happens all the time".He managed a weak smile. Inside, his stomach was churning. "Look, I'm grateful", he told her. "To you. And to Sally. Particularly to you. But this stuff is ingrained in me. There's nothing you can do. Nothing. Just let me shake here in the corner, and pour me into a bucket when we land. Go back and help your friends, if you want".Again, Holly shook her head. "No can do. Sorry. I'm going to get you through this. And the first item in my guide for nervous passengers is advice. Look out of the window, Jack. It really helps. You can see how evenly we're flying. How safe and predictable it all is. You could even look out of the front window if you want to. I can get you into the cockpit if you'd like. I know, normally that's just for little boys, but I'll tell Frank you're a big little boy. Frank owes me. He won't mind. Look. We'll start with the window next to you".The.
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