Tutor, regrets that he could not ride to rescue me from dragons sinister in the extreme. Spurned he says. Spurned by his Lady Love.
Me thinks that the languid pressing of hand to fevered brow when casting your words upon still, still waters, Tutor, will avail you not. In truth fair knight, I doth understand the whys and wherefores of your traitorous acts of inaction: black leather became me not.
Sigh.
And as a quick aside: thanks to everyone for expressing their opinions yesterday and today. Especially those who expressed their opinions above the belt rather than below.