“What’s that?” Savita looked shocked. Her eyes which were filled with gladness seeing the great apartment vanished like a bubble in the water.�...A bowling alley.” He answered weakly.Savita stood looking at him for a moment and immediately pulled him closer and whispered softly in his ears. “Now Harsh, how will we ever get sleep here and not to mention how will we make love.” She pressed the word love deeply.“Can you imagine yourself making love with the banging of balls overhead? Or you would. It was how I imagined a high-class Parisian harlot’s parlour would look. Draped with diaphanous curtains flapping languidly in the breeze, it was filled with a heady perfume. Discarded lingerie lay on the floor. All the pictures on the walls – etchings, watercolours and even some ancient sepia photographs – were of a most intimate nature. Nude ladies playing together on couches and well-hung black men penetrating lily-white damsels. Pride of place, above the fireplace, was a photo of a quartet. More

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