"Oh, look at them, Caro." She was beside herself with excitement. "The hair, the clothes. And the machines…"
"Automobiles." He had her around the shoulder, as much to keep track of her in the crowd as it was in affection.
Paris swept past them and bustled around them and brushed against the cheek and eye and nose: Paris between the wars, Pars of glamour and sex and miracles.
"Thank you for my wedding present."
Three thousand years back, for a week they'd never forget. He leaned in for a kiss, a long, passionate, Parisian kiss. "Thank you for marrying me."