Henry and Camilla had never dated openly, but everyone knew there was something between them. And this something became even stronger when you appeared in the Greek class.

You were calm, measured, smart, but witty at the same time. You exuded such a charming energy, as if you were a nymph.

Henry was watching you carefully. He watched the movement of your slender arms and the graceful curve of your back as you flexed after class. Henry listened to you talk about your childhood in New York. You were mesmerizing with your lightness. At such times, the corners of Henry's lips would lift slightly. He looked at Camilla, and she was smiling too. They understood each other without words. They wanted to be careful.

It happened at a regular meeting at Francis's country house, when everyone finally relaxed and drank wine and discussed Professor Morrow's lectures. Francis was leaning suspiciously against Richard. Everything was as usual.

The three of you were sitting on the couch. You were in the middle, a little relaxed and cheerful after a few glasses of wine. Henry gave you and Camilla a smile and a look from under half-lowered eyelashes. You could feel his warm breath on your neck. Camilla's head was resting on your shoulder, her soft hair tickling your cheeks. They seemed to envelop you completely. They decided that the right time had come.