They walked on as a couple, a picture of propriety. Bert lapsed into silence contemplating their relationship. There were no parents to gain approval of, he had not had eyes for another woman, yet they were not so young and foolish to elope like that couple he had read about in the paper. Rash kids. No, for Bert when the time came it would all be done proper like; bands of marriage read aloud, a church wedding, then maybe a few days rest in Scarborough. And all of this was dependant on whether the police would allow him the time off. Bert's stomach growled at him to focus his attention on another love: pastries.