'Journeys end. Journeys end, wait a minute'

He unfolded a paper and started reading,

Journeys end in lovers meeting,

 Every wise man's son doth know.

 What is love? ‘It’s not hereafter;

 Present mirth hath present laughter;

 What's to come is still unsure:

 In delay there lies not plenty;

 Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,

 Youth's a stuff will not endure.

(Note: it's written by Shakespeare)

He bowed after completing, giving me a chance to notice what he is wearing.

'Is that your mother's coat?'

'A gentleman never kisses and tells, though I appreciate your interest in my attire. It speaks of your wifely qualities', he said haughtily.

I pinched...