Ding Rong, in his narrowed dagger-keen focus on his task, is unsure of the time when he is first made aware of Wang Zhi’s approach. He knows only by the dark of his workroom, dim-lit by his low-burned candle, that it is well into the evening. He knows only that it is no other visitor but Wang Zhi, circling into his periphery, portended by a flutter of draping fabric, because no other but Wang Zhi would dare to come unannounced.

Eddie gets some late-night visitors when he and Steve are hanging out. Afraid of getting busted, Steve hides in the closet, and then wishes he didn't.

Oh! my dear fellow beings, why should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest ill-humor or envy! Come; let us squeeze hands all round; nay, let us all squeeze ourselves into each other; let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and sperm of kindness.

Irving gets pissed on and has the time of his life.

Nathan is there in the kitchen, waiting for him, unwrapping his hands.

A great deal of history is written on the body. Bond reads attentively.

Jonathan was much the happier, being mourned by one king and loved by two, and do not the loves and griefs of kings exceed those of other men?

Or, capture and death.

Two kinsmen make an auspicious start to a hunting trip by avoiding their relatives and having sex in tents. (They're very nice tents, though.)

In which Freddy Newandyke does not catch a bullet and Larry Dimmick makes off with a briefcase full of diamonds and both of them still end up in more trouble than they bargained for.

Hal gets stabbed; Hickey gets invasive.

Friends do favors for each other. Will Graham really needs a favor.