She bore a gold-haired child on each hip. “Here I am, home from the wars, and you let me be swarmed over by barbarians whilst you flirt with my friends.” “Excuse me,” George said gravely to the adults, and to the children he plucked from his wife’s hold. Gripping the Lioness firmly, he bent her back in a prolonged kiss that looked like a romantic scene in a play. Everyone, even the men-at-arms posted along the walls, clapped, whistled, and cheered.
