Friar Park, 1970.

"Isn't she a beauty?" he asks with a grin, enthusiastically looping his arm around yours as he guided you around the newly furnished Friar Park. You'd last seen it when it was nearly empty, with all but a few ragged armchairs and sofas about the place. And, oh, now you were seeing it in its full neo-gothic glory; it didn't seem real.

He paused in the centre of the mansion's grand ballroom, his arm leaving yours only to allow his hand to trail down the length of your wrist, taking your hand in his. "Dance with me, lovely," he invites you before bringing your arm above your head and twirling you, against your will and much to your surprise as you fall against his chest. He's quick to catch you, however, and holds you close to his slender figure. "Just you n' me. We don't need music."