Epilogue
"Well, we still have two days left to salvage of our honeymoon, Miss Fisher – are you prepared to revert to the role of Mrs Robinson for a spell?"
They were standing together on the balcony of their room, admiring the view across the river in the late afternoon sun. Phryne stood by the rail, and Jack behind her, his hands flanking hers. She turned in his arms, and played with the knot of his tie, smoothing it to her own idea of perfection.
"I think it rather depends, Detective Inspector."
He looked at her quizzically. "Depends? On what?"
"Which is it you prefer? The dangerous, irritating Miss Fisher, or the domesticated Mrs Robinson?"
His lips twitched at that.
"Phryne, if I'd thought there was the slightest possibility of you becoming a domesticated anything, I would have found some other way of keeping you out of jail – I certainly wouldn't have married you."
"Jack! Not even to save my neck?"
He agreed it was a very nice neck, which deserved much closer scrutiny. She tipped her head back a little, to facilitate an exercise of which she very much approved. His next words were a little muffled, and punctuated with light kisses, but she thought she got the gist.
"The particular joy I have – Mrs Robinson – is being the only – person on – the planet – who gets to see – both ladies – in the same – extremely fetching – package."
"In that case, Mr Robinson, I think we should definitely," she broke off to giggle when he unerringly identified that ticklish point below her left ear, "ah – make the most of the rest of our honeymoon."
She broke off, and sternly pushed his face away with a finger on his lips.
"On two conditions."
"Anything, Miss Fisher."
"That we remain on dry land; and that you get rid of that damn spider."