Less than ten minutes later, he returned, breathless. ‘Don Carlos,’ he called, urgently to me as he burst in through the bedroom door, ‘the sign...l!’ We had passed the night before we arrived in Carcassonne at a small, rather humble auberge in the foothills of the mountains, which stood atop a cliff with an impressive view of the citadel. From there, the road took a circuitous route down to the valley and the city beyond, a day on foot or walking a horse, or a fast ride of perhaps four or five. We had decided to stay in a hotel between our two colleges, hence to lounge dinner. We had tenatively booked a room with one double bed, Chris telling me all the time that if I was or got uncomfortable with it, don't be afraid to let him know.We took the elevator back up to the room. I could tell by the way Chris was staring at me that he wanted to kiss me passionatly, but was stopped by the people around us. I couldn't make eye contact with him, for fear of letting go of all social boundaries. More

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