"Hinter?" Anest chuckled, half-awake, yestereve's lovemaking still running in the background of his thoughts. "Is that a word?"
"A word for nonce," came Lily's muffled reply. And then, she abruptly flung back her covers, one hand pressed over her mouth, made a dash for the bathing room, slid to her knees on her nightdress in front of the comode chair, flipped up its wooden lid, and began heaving the contents of her stomach into the earthenware pot. As she heard Anest approach, she blindly put up a hand, accepted the bit of root he dispensed from one of Belloc's phials, popped it in her mouth, and
began chewing, vigorously.
"Better?"
"M'm! M'm-m'm-m'm, m'm-m'm! M'm!"
"Is it working-?"
"If you keep me talking this will just take longer, Anest! And don't you DARE find this amusing! Just for that, YOU can clean the pot! And when I'm GOOD and done with it- Oh, that's nice! Oh, thank-you, thank-you! How did you make this blanket so toasty warm?"
"Just for you," he said with a smile as he rubbed her back, "I got out the old clothes rack that used to be attached to the downstairs wood-stove, brought it upstairs, and placed it beside the hall stove."
"Oh, my thoughtful knight-errant! You are quite forgiven. At least, for now." She heaved a sigh and raised her head. "Do I look a sight?"