Finally, she lifted her chin high. There was something vibrant on her face, a look of challenge, or warning."Do not toy with my emotions," she said. "Last night was something wondrous for me. Never have I felt like I felt while I lay with you. Never have I felt so safe. Never have I felt so cherished. I know this is silly, but be careful of what you tell me to do, because I will obey you. If I don't, I will go crazy, Bob-san. I will surely go crazy!" All I'm going to do is hug you," he said. "And believe it or not, I understand some of what you're feeling. You're very attractive, Hamako. It was not easy to keep my hands off of you last night. But I don't want to lead you on, either. I'm not going to take advantage of you. As delightful as it would be to have that kind of relationship with you, you can do much better than me."She blinked. "You are insane. Are all American men insane like this?" She flowed into his arms, and hugged him tightly. She kissed his chest and then looked up at. With an odd shiver, the barmaid found herself washing a glass and presenting it, along with a water jug, to the handsome gentleman she didn't remember requesting anything. Nodding slightly in acknowledgment, Camorra picked up the glass and jug in one hand, his top-hat in the other, and began to wend his way through the crowd to find a suitable table. It wasn't hard. Thee crowds parted at his approach, drunk people who just happened to stagger away from him, sober people who decided to take that moment to adjust their position. He made no motion to part the crowd, they just found themselves out of his way. As he approached the table he desired, one with a good view of the door, the man sitting there seemed to decide he was drunk enough for the night, and lurched off as Camorra approached. Smiling subtly to himself - centuries-old presence still had its uses - Camorra seated himself down and relaxed. His reverie was broken by the curtain at the door being brushed aside and a crowd of.
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