heat of Thermidor, who would have an extra coat to spare?

The interior of the carriage was already cramped and stifling, and the meaningful glances from his love rival, occasionally scrutinizing certain parts of his body, made Andre feel as though he sat on pins and needles. He squirmed in his seat, at times tugging at his gaping collar, and at other times forcefully pulling at his torn trousers, yet unable to attend to one without neglecting the other. The poor youth, with a face already somewhat boyish, now appeared on the verge of tears.

Edith could no longer bear watching and stood up, walking over to his side, saying, "Let me shield you, Andre."

Andre gazed at her, perplexed and aggrieved. She lifted her skirt and straddled on his lap, her back blocking the gaze of Raphael. Though he no longer needed to endure the mocking glances of his rival, the posture of the two was undeniably suggestive: they were so close that their scorching breaths brushed against each other''s faces, her soft bosom pressed against his firm chest, and their heated intimacies merely separated by the thin fabric of the maiden''s undergarments beneath her skirt.

In belated realisation of the impropriety of this approach, both youngsters blushed. However, Edith, caught in a predicament, chose to pretend as if nothing was amiss and continued to maintain their current position.

As the carriage neared the outskirts of Paris, Raphael suddenly assumed a grave expression and swiftly took a seat beside them. Resolutely, he commanded them, "Kiss. The more passionate,