Aimé glanced at the young man. He was attractive, if one went for boyish charm and good-looks but Aimé was much more settled towards older, more wise faces and he doubted the man had meant something like that - it was simply his perverse mind that called attention to the double meaning. Besides, a tumble wouldn't inspire him to forget Mercedes.
"Pour me another drink." He said, finishing his glass and passing it to the man. "And maybe if you have time, listen to a story of lost love? It's about a coward who's too frightened to give up his position. It ends tragically I promise you."