Tossup

she stood up ... reached across the table to pinch his cheek - two small red spots grew where she had crimped his dark-whiskered flesh ... "Now they match ... scoundrel!" for there flamed two more crimson marks on the opposite side where the other had pressed her pretty plum bows just a moment before ... they both walked slowly away from him in different directions swaying like serpents 'for a flute every eye affixed to their coy affectations and the suggested treasures that moved beneath the pleated finery, draping ... he quickly finished the cold, green shot of absinthe in his hand, and considered the question that now faced him ... which desirous, compelling, wholly dangerous creature would he follow?