The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. And now, my angel, that I am acquainted with your sentiments on this subject, I shall readily fulfil a promise which I made to your lamented parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said.
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