[ There is no icon that could properly depict the exact shade of red Valmont goes upon opening the second part of his gift, much as there is no sequence of letters that could quite convey the noise he makes. But as Manuela isn't there to witness either of those anyway, there's no harm in leaving them to the imagination.
He stares at the collar for a long, long time, strongly considering doing exactly as Manuela suggests and just binning the damn thing. Instead, for reasons unknown, he finds himself shoving it in the deepest recesses of his closet. Or maybe the second-deepest. Just in case Manuela should invite him over again.
(The pastries, of course, he eats. They're delicious.) ]
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He stares at the collar for a long, long time, strongly considering doing exactly as Manuela suggests and just binning the damn thing. Instead, for reasons unknown, he finds himself shoving it in the deepest recesses of his closet. Or maybe the second-deepest. Just in case Manuela should invite him over again.
(The pastries, of course, he eats. They're delicious.) ]