"I think they're having an affair." Jay's voice is light, soft, but properly scandalized. He swishes a drink in his glass elegantly as he leans in to talk conspiratorially with Bertie. Jay if anything is a gossip at heart.
"An affair?" In contrast Bertie sounds baffled by the notion, childishly glancing from Jay to the pair outside. With his curtains open to let in the early morning sunlight it is not hard to miss the two Psychics walking arm in arm.
"Darling... Look at them."
Bertie doesn't seem convinced as he sipped at his glass, squinting somewhat. "Well, I am. They seem friendly enough. That Milla is a dashed nice woman, kind to a fault far as I've seen."
"They're taking tea."
The dapper man nearly chokes on his drink.
"They're consorting, if you catch my drift."
"Jay-"
"They're having a bit of a crumpet." The suggestive eyebrow waggling makes Bertie turn red.
"I'll never be able to eat crumpets now..."
"A bit of the old in and out."
"Would you-"
By this point Jay is finding amusement in watching Bertie squirm. "Bulging the back of the old onion bag, burying the weasel, flimp-flopping, having hot pudding for supper, oscillating the unmentionables, Squat-jumping in the cucumber patch-"
"By gods, man!" Bertie shoots up from his seat, glass forgotten and shattering on the floor. "They are not having an affair!" He forgets himself and his voice carries, stopping the psychics in the tracks outside.
The dapper man blanches, now completely losing all color and slinking back into his chair. His mind desperately tries to think of anything but the topic at hand as Jay laughs.
oscillating the unmentionables
"An affair?" In contrast Bertie sounds baffled by the notion, childishly glancing from Jay to the pair outside. With his curtains open to let in the early morning sunlight it is not hard to miss the two Psychics walking arm in arm.
"Darling... Look at them."
Bertie doesn't seem convinced as he sipped at his glass, squinting somewhat. "Well, I am. They seem friendly enough. That Milla is a dashed nice woman, kind to a fault far as I've seen."
"They're taking tea."
The dapper man nearly chokes on his drink.
"They're consorting, if you catch my drift."
"Jay-"
"They're having a bit of a crumpet." The suggestive eyebrow waggling makes Bertie turn red.
"I'll never be able to eat crumpets now..."
"A bit of the old in and out."
"Would you-"
By this point Jay is finding amusement in watching Bertie squirm. "Bulging the back of the old onion bag, burying the weasel, flimp-flopping, having hot pudding for supper, oscillating the unmentionables, Squat-jumping in the cucumber patch-"
"By gods, man!" Bertie shoots up from his seat, glass forgotten and shattering on the floor. "They are not having an affair!" He forgets himself and his voice carries, stopping the psychics in the tracks outside.
The dapper man blanches, now completely losing all color and slinking back into his chair. His mind desperately tries to think of anything but the topic at hand as Jay laughs.