“Jerry Lambert!” she snapped, trying to give him a stern, no-nonsense look. “Cut thatout! You almost made me drop our dinner!”“Then we would...have had to go out to eat,”Jerry grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. “Or maybe we could have just settled foreating out right here. As a matter of fact, I’d like to eat you out, honey. That’d beeven better than the spaghetti.”“Ooooooh, Jerry!” she giggled.“You . . . you’re just awful . . . you get me so flustered I just don’t know what to do!”She flipped her. These stairs led down to the servants domain, 'below stairs', and I followed Amy through a veritable maze of corridors and passages, passing huge kitchens, with red faced sweating cooks and staff slaving over the preparations for the buffet. Eventually we arrived at a door, and she said."The Curzon Players are quartered below stairs, like the servants we are -- this is my room, and we have at least half an hour before I must take part in the tableaux."With that we entered the room, and in a. More

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