Divorce Day
“Au Revoir, Carmen,” she said, as he too emerged outside. She mouthed him another kiss, and the door closed behind her. “Did you notice how she compared our skills at pussy pleasing?” he asked, “but bad boys are entreated never to make cunt comparisons….at least according to my unofficial Tutress. Alice Tetsworth was quite clear about it, but I’ve noticed on countless occasions how the rule doesn’t seem to apply in reverse.” Perhaps he had a point, as they continued away? Then she saw a black figure approaching….most likely the Parish Priest’s Sunday Special? Uh..huh….since it was Sir Digby Vaillance, as always wearing his Smart suit. It was extremely expensively tailored, bespoke Savile Row stuff.
She took a moment to admire the black pinstripe, his suitably silky white shirt with black tie, and matching black shiny shoes. “Good afternoon, both of you,” he said, “It appears Shagger’s giving his evident enthusiasm for exposure and exhibitionism another outing.” Fair enough. “I assume you’re in need of some spiritual guidance….Digger?” he asked, sourly. “Quite so, Shagger,” he replied, with a slight smile, “so I’m off to the Rectory….for Afternoon Tea.” They nodded knowingly. “The Gonads Guillotine’s working well,” she said to nobody in particular. “I couldn’t possibly comment….” he replied, as a suspicious bulge promptly appeared at the front of his trousers, “….however the Reformatory Guard’s assured me it’ll be one lash a minute for Lateness.”
She recalled how he edged eighdy to fordy in the direction of Dominance….Messy’s mirror image. “Davy can confirm her complete competency,” she said, turning him round, “and I can tell you she’s totally turned on.” SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as the noble knight smacked his seat. “I’d like to tan your terribly tempting tush again before the end of term, Shagger,” he asked, “do you have ANY time available?” He pursed his lips. “There’s the very last lunchtime,” he replied, “for me, Private Study has been penances all through the year. It’s been in attempts at atonement, mostly to make amends to all my dearest dorm mates. William Shanks finally released his Wednesday slot last Friday.” Since they’d become firm friends, following his week of rustication.
There was certainly something to be said for a prolonged period of punishment in such circumstances….and it had worked wonderfully well with Wanker Boy Will. “An excellent idea,” he said, “I’ll ask you to role-play my sinful son, who I’ve caught wanking worthlessly with porn publications.” She smiled slightly. “Surely a sinful scenario after dearest Davy’s own heart?” she suggested, “and a labour of love.” He nodded, his penis pulsing. “There are also some things I want to discuss with him….” should they be worried? “….nothing too serious....” which was a relief, “….I shall be seriously sad, should Shagger not achieve his aims at A-Level….” so would she, “….which would deprive me of disciplining his delightful derrière….” he looked at her with an avuncular eye, “….and yours too, my dear.” It was always good to be wanted.
“Rest assured my fanny is fine for flogging,” she replied, “and my fancy for fucking, even if dearest Davy doesn’t make the grades….so to speak. I’m sure the same sentiments apply to all our ménage….unless we too have flunked our exams.” Sir Digby Vaillance grinned, and then grimaced. “Thank you, Missus,” he said, “it’s an indecent offer I appreciate, especially since I understand you’ve Conscious Cunt Contraction Control….” fame at last? “….but please do excuse me, since the clock’s ticking and I’m on….well, injury time already.” Ha bloody ha, but absolutely apt. “Until Wednesday, Digger,” he said as the school Governor went his wicked way, in order to meet his fate worse then death.
Several minutes later, they reached the Staff car park. A figure in an artist’s black smock was walking up to them and carrying an easel, plus paints. “Good afternoon, both of you,” said Arty Farty Barty, heartily, “had you some time to spare, I’d have been happy to do a study in spanking, with Shagger bending over the bonnet for a beating. But would you have time to pose for a pretty picture?” He gestured towards his car, and inevitably it bore the personalized plate of ART IE. “Certainly,” he replied, taking up the Position, “I’m always happy to help with my hiney.” FLASHH….FLASHH….went the camera. “It’s such a shame you weren’t in my class last year, Shagger,” said the teacher, “still, I understand your neat little bottom is attending Summer School….hopefully Asking for the cane….” yet another two dollars, “….so all is not lost. I offer….well, adult Art classes, when we can draw a copulating couple in coitus. I daresay you two terrors might enjoy poking in public. There’s also worthless wanking, with all the wanton wicked wenches and Witches watching.” Bring it on. “Most definitely, Barty,” she replied, as he stowed his stuff inside the car.
“We haven’t much time left before fagging, Bren,” he said as Bartholomew Farthing drove away, “however I’ve a cunning plan….” the same as Black Adder, in the ancient TV comedy series, “….when does hubby’s train arrive?” She pursed her lips. “He should be on the 6:42pm at StricktlandS HalT,” she replied. “Excellent,” he said, “I’m sure he’d enjoy his final fling with you on Divorce Day….as mad monk. I was already going to ask Sue Sweet whether I can borrow her car….” she wouldn’t ask why, “….and can deliver my Deposition at the same time. Do you have it handy?” She removed it from an inside pocket, and offered it to him. “It’s a great idea, Davy,” she said, as he put it into the carrier bag, “although the Registrars may be right about wasted work.
Also, Naughty Natty was talking about being 3M’s senior fag next term, so she may be disappointed.” He smiled. “Natalie Nought may fancy the facility of a fearsome fagmaster,” he opined, “were one available. Similarly, Mitchell Mary Murphy would benefit from a young buck to beat….” both postulates could be true, “….but returning to Richard. As another gesture of reconciliation….” which was probably pointless, “….I’ll meet him at the main school gates, which will save him the walk after such a long journey. Then I can escort him straight to The Cloisters, and show him the ropes….and shackles, so to speak.” Very droll. “I’ve another couple of ideas, Davy,” she said, “I’ll accompany you….in the altogether, as I enjoy Driving Dubiously Dressed. I daresay Very Nice will as well, since I’d arranged a Bi-some threesome this evening for him as a special farewell treat.” She’d suggest it a little later.
“She’s enjoying a Shagger’s Supper with me, following fagging,” he replied as they crossed the car park, “and suggested some nude Waitress service….” always enjoyable, “….so can we meet here at twenty past six?” She nodded, as they passed through the side entrance into the main buildings. Inevitably they were met with the sounds of distant discipline, wafting on the wind. “Your back is rather raw, Davy,” she opined as they started down the first of the long, dark cold corridors. “It’ll be fine,” he replied, “I’ll have a short snooze and then Mitches will massage me with some cold cream.”
Which was what fags were for….creature comforts, plus copious quantities of correctional caning. “What happens if Sue Sweet’s….well, otherwise occupied when you get to the Staff Study wing?” she asked. “She’ll invite me inside immediately,” he replied, “adding a huge helping of humiliation to whoever’s being whipped well on the wall.” He was probably quite correct, as they reached the parting of the ways….SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as she too smacked his sore seat. “It IS a neat little bottom, Davy,” she said, pouting provocatively, “simply Asking for the cane….as everyone this afternoon apparently agrees, so kindly accept another two dollars.” He winked once and walked away, whilst wiggling his waist. Had he been playing In The Pink, she’d have caned him for cause….Incitement, in this instance.
She continued to the Prefects’ Study wing, and crossed the entrance hall. Then it was up the empty stone steps, which were echoing again from further floggings. At this hour, it was probably more Sunday Specials. She reached the Level 3 landing, and continued to study 17 for the second time today. She’d left the door wide open, so she stepped straight inside. But dearest Davy’s suggestion wasn’t a bad one, especially since her de facto senior fag was her girlfriend. She stepped inside her study and stripped to her socks. Neatly, she folded all her clothes and wrote a brief note.
Shaggette: wake me at half past four, with my dinner ready. Verity: kindly get going on the ironing….and afterwards I’d appreciate some soothing massage. Love Brenda xx
She affixed it to the study door, then lay on the bed and closed her eyes.
“Ohhh….ohhh.” she murmured as she awoke to the feel of busy fingers and thumbs massaging her neck. Then they worked their way along her shoulder blades and down her back. “Ohhh….ohhh,” she moaned as her hiney was handled, and for the first time the apparent professionalism was compromised by a fanny feel. “I’m so sorry, Ma’am,” muttered Verity Gneiss, “I knew I’d have problems with your pert posterior.” Then she continued along the calves….hell, this was all making her so wet. “Could you kindly turn over, Ma’am?” she asked….Smackk Smackk “….so sorry a second time. As a Bi-Babe, I simply couldn’t resist your rear.”
Nice to know, especially as dearest Davy had been treated to taps on his tush all afternoon. “All of which is what the sex pests and public perverts on the London Underground doubtless say to the Touch-Up Teams,” she said dreamily, “after they’ve been apprehended for touching up Talent on tube trains. You’d best not travel in the rush hour, or you’ll be in trouble.” The younger year sniggered slightly, as she turned onto her back. Uh..huh….as her masseuse was in the altogether. “I reckon I’d get away with it, Ma’am,” she said, “since I’d stand next to a likely lad who’d been Leching Longingly Like A Loser at an innocent young Lady. Then I’d do the dastardly deed, and when she slapped him soundly, I’d do the same. When he was accosted and arrested at the next station, we’d both claim to have been assaulted. Then we’d watch whilst he was given The Cattle Prod in the crotch….instant injustice.
Obviously, he still deserved it, with the Idea of indecent intent, so he was guilty as charged….” the usual rationale, and used against mere males with unerring accuracy, “….mind you, I could go for those gals, since it seems they’re based on the Burdizzo Babes….” so she’d read recently in The News Of The World, “….you looked pretty good yourself as one at the Summer Balls, Ma’am.” She licked her lips. “Ohh,” she moaned all over again, as both beautiful boobs were tenderly touched and tweaked. “Don’t be shy at doing my best bits, Verity….” she muttered, “….Uhhh….” she added as the fingers found her fancy, “….cum my cunt….UHHH….YESS….YESS….” she shivered in orgasmic ecstasy, “….did I say stop?”
It was several similar competent cums later before SHE was satisfied. When the room had stopped revolving, she sat up slowly. Then she saw for the first time how Verity Gneiss wasn’t quite nude, but was wearing high-heeled shoes. “Thank you, Verity,” she said, rubbing her eyes, “No Good Turn Goes Unpunished….” as stated by the unwritten rule, “….at some stage there’ll be six strokes for petting posteriors and smacking seats….” she was a serious subbie, so she’d enjoy them all, “….I expect you’ve been looking forward to your Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On beating?” There was a slight smile. “Yes, Ma’am,” she admitted, “it’s the anticipation of approaching agonies, and an appropriately aching arse.” There was a sniff from her junior fag, still working in the kitchenette. “Me too, Ma’am,” she muttered, “and also an appreciative audience.” Still her sweet subbie self.
“Shut up, Shaggette,” she growled, “it’ll be one whack on YOUR beat sheet….” for speaking out of turn, “….Verity can provide me with nude Waitress service….” she took her seat at the study table, “….so she’ll be properly dressed for dearest Davy a little later. Shaggette, get Dirty’s pink bowtie from the wardrobe, and she’ll be good to go.” She waited whilst it was applied, and now she looked….well, Very Nice. “Soup first, Ma’am,” said Lynda Shagton, “it’s your favourite….cock-a-leekie, knowing how much you enjoy cocks which leak.” What wonderful wit. “A second for such shocking Sarcasm,” she said, picking up her clip board, “even if it IS true.”
6. Impertinently Imparting Information: 1 – Sarcasm: 1
Then she headed up another new sheet for her latest senior fag, and entered her crimes.
1. SAYM T’GO:4 – Farewell Foursome: 4
2. Conduct unbecoming of an innocent young lady : 1
“Oops….apologies again, Ma’am,” muttered Very Nice as some soup slipped onto the tablecloth. “One whack for the spillage, sinful slut,” she growled, making more neat notes.
3. Chronic Carelessness: 1
4. Being Bothered By Beating: 3
According to her wall clock, it was 4.51pm before she’d finished her food….and item 3 had increased to two in the interim. She drained her cup of coffee and walked across to the wardrobe. “I’ll clear Shaggette’s sheet tomorrow morning,” she said, “with some sound swishing, to set her up for the day….” something Sexy Sammy had so often said to her during Year LXXXVIII….and also to dearest Davy, “….however I’ll give my temporary senior fag a Very Nice treat….” so to speak, “….and be a Burdizzo Babe.” There were two gasps, as she put on the black boots. Then it was the briefest of black bras, and matching….well, briefs. The latter two she tied together with the selection of straps. Quickly, she applied the red lipstick, which would make her mouth really mean.
Finally it was the black peaked hat, and dark glasses. Despite everything, she was still next-to nude. “MA’AM,” muttered Verity Gneiss, “you seem so stunningly strict and stern.” Which was the whole idea, as she set down the cattle prod onto her study table. “Bend over, guilty girl,” she ordered, “it’ll be a dozen due, staccato style in threes….as your naughty nipples have failed an erection inspection.” Her high heels helped to balance the body further forward, for an acuter angle of attack….and so much sexier.
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, thank you so much, MA’AM,” she yelped. “I’ll forgo your Farewell Foursome,” she said, “since dearest Davy can dish the discipline. You’re having a Shagger’s Supper shortly, so I suggest you offer him some more nude Waitress service….and you can borrow the bowtie.” She was sure they’d both enjoy the experience.
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yaroooh..OOOH..HOOH….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped, and as always it sounded so much like sex….even when the sluts weren’t OO girls.
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….NINE, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped. “I’ve another special treat for you this evening, Verity,” she said conversationally. Stopping short at the penultimate strokes was simply studded sadism. The canee was mired in mental misery, knowing the caning wasn’t quite concluded and there were more cuts to come. Alas, for a subbie, the erotic expectation easily undid the effect. It was like attempting to humble and humiliate an incorrigible exhibitionist with public punishment….they simply thrived on the thrashing. “As you know,” she said, “it’s my divorce day from Richard Sharp. To show there’s no hard feelings….” except possibly his penis, “….I thought he’d enjoy a Bi-Some threesome with us this evening. However, dearest Davy and I have arranged to meet him off the train a little later. We’ll go to The Cloisters, where he can role-play the mad monk. Hubby will have a time of pussy punishments with two pretty prisoners….always assuming you’d like a place of pain.”
There was a wide smile….and a scowl from Shaggette. “Thank you so much, Ma’am,” said Verity Gneiss, “it’s somewhere I’ve never been, and I’ve always been intrigued about it.” Her too, as it happened. “Might there be room for one more, Ma’am?” muttered her junior fag from the kitchenette. “All right,” she agreed, “he can have an Awesome Foursome. Be at the Staff car park by twenty past six….and it’s two more strokes onto your beat sheet. One for the caneable Question….sheer cheek, and Soliciting.” There was a look of pure pleasure.
Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk Swishhhthwackkkk
“Yeouch..OUCHH..OUCHH….TWELVE, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped, “thank you for a thoroughly therapeutic thrashing….” she wiggled her waist, “….perhaps The Cattle Prod on the pussy would be pertinent?” So she’d seen it sitting on the table, whilst wanting it as well. “Twice,” she said, “one for the Question….and also Incitement….” she watched whilst the younger year spread her legs, “….there are six settings,” she explained, “of sparkle SOFT sound serious severe and stun. I’ve set it to sound, since with stun you’ll be flat on the floor….ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH,” she moaned, “….perhaps you could kindly make the second serious?” ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH….” she repeated.
“Another Question,” she said, “so this time we’ll say severe.” ZZZZZZ “….URGHHH,” she muttered, “a gal could get to like it.” Then she saw Shaggette standing hopefully with her blue skirt raised and naughty knickers down. “What setting should we say?” she asked, with weary resignation. “Stun,” she said, “I want it once….simply to say I’ve experienced it.” Fair enough….ZZZZZZ “….URGHHHHK,” she moaned and collapsed quietly, cupping her crotch. “I did warn her,” she said, “however she’ll be fine in a few minutes. But it’s almost five o’clock, so go as you are. You’ll be reporting to a Superior Sir’s study, so I suggest you be six minutes late, same as the studs. It’ll allow another entrée into Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment….not forgetting your Farewell Foursome….” she paused, “….one final thing. I’d like YOU to be the next Sex Slut Of St Stricktlands School.” There were two gasps. “Thank you, Ma’am,” she replied, “it’s a real honour.” She sniggered softly.
“Definitely deserved,” she said, “and I’ll be looking forward to later, when I’ll be similarly submissive….and shackled.” The younger year arose. “Thank you for everything, Ma’am,” she said, “until then.” She strutted out of the study and closed the door behind her. “Uhhh….Ma’am,” murmured Shaggette from the floor. “it was….well, heavenly.” Which wasn’t actually the intention, although it had achieved its aim of incapacity. “You’re dismissed for the day,” she said, starting to strip again, “and don’t be late.” Shaggette struggled slowly to her feet and sorted herself out. “I wouldn’t dream of doing so, Ma’am,” she muttered, as she strode unsteadily towards the door. The last bits of the Burdizzo Babe were folded away, and she retreated back to her bed. Frankly, she could do with another short snooze, and doing so in the altogether would work well.
Big Ben was striking again as she awoke, hoping she hadn’t overslept again? Fortunately she was fine, and it was 6.15pm. She’d have to hurry, so she padded quickly out of the study. Then it was back to the Level 3 landing and down the same stone steps….still echoing. At the base, she retraced her earlier route towards. Several minutes later, she reached the side exit door into the Staff car park. Good, since dearest Davy had parked MEN 10N immediately adjacent. “Hop in the front, Bren….” he said from the driver’s side, and clearly now wearing the Dominican monk’s habit, “….since we’re good to go.”
She padded around, and climbed inside. “Evening all,” she said to Very Nice and Shaggette in the back seats. “I like Driving Dubiously Dressed,” said his Sister as they started away, “especially starkers, since it’s seriously slutty and sinful.” Quite so. “It’s excellent for exhibitionists everywhere….” he agreed, “….and also facilitates a frisson of freedom,” she added. “Ordinarily I’d agree with you, Bren,” he said dryly, as they accelerated along the half mile carriage drive, “however both bonkable Birds in the boot might not….” she stared at him, “….a couple of kidnapees, however we’ll have them out again shortly.” Clearly HE was up to his old tricks again.
In the early evening light, they reached the turning circle by the main entrance gates. Lumme it was the local law, with a Police car already parked. Dearest Davy stepped out, even as the fine figure of Thor Thring emerged. “Ello….’ello….’ello….” he said in his stilted style, which rather reminded her of the proverbial PC Plod. It dropped every initial H, but added them back where they weren’t wanted, “….wot’s hall diss den?” At least they were still on school property rather than the public highway, however her heart still thumped. “Will duh woodnymphs step hart hov duh car,” he continued, “hand stand wiv your ’ands hon duhh doors….legs hapart. Hi ’ave to frisk you, hin horder to hascertain wevar you’re carryin’ henny hoffensive weapons.” Surely this was role-play, since they were starkers?
Yes please, whispered her personal demon, preferably with a poke by his Police pole? They lined up along the car, “Ohh….ohh….” moaned Shaggette as he ran it along her arms and sides, “….uhh….uhh….” she added as it went along her legs, “….UHHH,” she concluded, even as it paused professionally at her pussy. “Ohh….ohh….uhh….uhh….UHHH,” moaned Very Nice, and now it was her turn to take his truncheon. “Ohh….ohh….uhh….uhh….UHHH,” she moaned. “Hi won’t search you, since you’re a man hov duh cloff, Sir,” he said, “but praps you could kindly hopen duh trunk?” So now all would be revealed, as dearest Davy duly did so. “Let’s ’ave you hart,” he ordered, as two of her prefect peers slowly and painfully emerged….Gail Sutherleigh and Eustace Foreman. They’d both hailed from dorm 6J during their period In The Pink. They were similarly starkers, albeit handcuffed and with their ankles ironed on short chains.
They were wide-eyed, with their mouths taped. “Silence his golden,” he mused, “but duct tape his silvar….” very fucking funny, “….Hi shall ’ave to take you two hin for questionin’ darn hat duh station,” he said holding open the rear door, “so step hinto my car.” Soundlessly, except for the clanking of the chains, they shuffled inside. “Until later, Sir,” said Thor Thring with a wide wink as he started the engine. Then they were away underneath the imposing wrought-iron arches. Seconds later, the car had disappeared along the B1469.
“All right,” he said, “you can all relax again, as Euphoria and Southerly Gale haven’t really been arrested….” they dropped their arms, and turned around to face him, “….Thor will take them to Stern Hall….and hence the RAILWAY station….” which the Copper hadn’t quite made clear, “…I expect you’ve worked out this was a wind-up for my two evening dates, although it’s actually an Awesome Foursome. They should appreciate it, having both been in The Six Jailbirds last year. They’ll both be beaten about and bonked by Sadistic Screws, and spend the night in the cells. It’s really repeated rape, but obviously only the consensual kind.” She watched whilst the two younger years shivered. “I want some of the same, Sir….” said Very Nice, “….and me, Sir,” added Shaggette. “You can ask for the facility to be added onto your time of treatment, Verity,” he said, “when you’re given your go on his electromechanical fucking machine….perhaps next term? Alas for Lyn, she’ll have to wait until Year XCI, when she becomes a prefect.”
Suddenly, she saw a lone figure in basic black striding purposefully past the main entrance gates, carrying an overnight bag. “Hubby,” she called out to him, whilst waving her arm. Rick The Prick spotted them, and turned towards them. “What the FUCK is going on here….Shagger?” he asked coldly. “A very good evening to you too, Richard,” he replied, unruffled, “I trust you had good journeys, and enjoyed some convivial, if not conjugal company in the far north?” Very….well, fucking funny. “I did both, thank you,” he said, “although it wasn’t much fun sitting down on the return run. Domme’s revised cunt currency is still a dozen due, however she kindly decided to deal with the discipline due from my divorcee. So I took a total of twendy….” or twenty four in old money, “….but at least Bren’s personable pussy is prepaid. However, I restate my original question, and I’d be grateful for an answer this time.”
So despite everything, the animosity was still there. “It’s to offer you a lift back to school, Richard,” he explained, “if you’d care to take the front passenger seat? The beautiful Birds can go in the back.” They all boarded the car, with hubby’s overnight bag on his knees. He started the engine, and seconds later they too were away. “We thought your final fling with my Missus might be made more memorable,” he said as he accelerated along the carriage drive, “and you’d appreciate an Awesome Foursome….if you’re up to it? We’re proposing to head into The Cloisters, by kind courtesy of Amen Carmen, who’s lent us the key. You can be the Dominican monk, whose habit is what I’m wearing. You’ll have these three pretty prisoners….who were perhaps not properly pious, and need plenty of pussy punishment.”
Hubby glanced backwards, and all three stroked their slits suggestively. She could see his eyes shining….but then he WAS a Dominant dolt. “Will you be assisting me, Shagger?” he asked suspiciously, as Big Ben rapidly appeared. It was shortly followed by the period Queen Anne buildings of Stricktlands Hall. “Nope,” he replied, “I shall simply show you the ropes….” exactly as he’d said earlier, “….after which I’ll away.”
Uh..huh….since he swung the car around to the main entrance hall, instead of the Staff car park. “I’ll park here,” he said as he stopped by the double doors, “since it’ll only be for a few minutes. Anyway, nobody’s going to challenge the School Secretary’s car.” Chance would, she agreed, be a fine thing. Anyone brave enough to do so would probably wind up with a whipping. They all emerged, and it was only a few steps across the graded gravel, for which she was grateful. She’d never been into bastinado punishments on the soles of the feet, although apparently some subbies sought the style.
“Lyn will carry your bag, Richard,” he said, holding open the doors for everyone to pass first. Then he followed inside, and they passed the huge hanging wall portraits. He selected what must be the correct one of the six seemingly identical exits. This would be the oldest part of the buildings, which in all her seven years, she’d never visited before. She doubted whether any of the others had done so either. “There’s really very little remaining of the original Abbey….” he intoned, speaking almost as a tour guide, “….but rather than leaving it as a ruin, the Mercer family simply patched up what was left. Then they built their Stricktlands Hall all around and over it. Actually, it’s an absolutely appalling treatment of an ancient monument, but back then they weren’t worried. I’ll admit it’s certainly preserved it, though not necessarily in a way one would have approved.” Several minutes later, they reached a heavy timbered door.
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