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"I wish only a night of conversation with such a beauteous flower," he says gently.
You spend the night talking, and, near the end, touching. He feeds you, with his own fingers, whatever you desire. Some time before dawn, you fall asleep.
When you awake, you are startled you find yourself on an airplane. Looking at the large seats and sumptuous meal set before you, you realize that you are in first class. A single white rose is on the empty seat next to you, with a note.
My dear, it reads, Thank you for a wonderful night.
Should you ever find yourself in Toronto again, do not hesitate
to visit. Yours, Lucien.