…In the midst of his singular reverie into the nature of fidelity and a man's baser needs, came a gentle tapping and the door to his room swung open. Nelson spun 'round, and there, in a patch of silvery moonlight, poised as if she were a statue of a classical goddess, a Diana, bathed in moonlight and clad in diaphanous folds, was Mrs. Hamilton herself.

For a moment he watched her in silence; she moved not a muscle under his intense scrutiny. Then all at once, she raised her hands to the shoulders of her gown. The fabric shimmered to the floor and she stood coyly, her right hand placed upon her lower belly, one leg slightly flexed. The woman was as naked as a nymph and as beautiful as any woman he had ever seen.