David led Maria through the small entrance door. "Keep your eyes closed another while yet. We're almost there." He led her to the centre of the main aisle and stopped. "Do you feel anything?"

"It's cooler in here than outside."

"The mass of the masonry and the vast space moderate changes in temperature, so they're very gradual. As the day warms outside, there's little difference in here. Do you sense anything else?"

"It's very quiet."

"Open your eyes. Now tell me what you sense."

"Oh, my God! This is awesome. I'm tingling all over. I have a feeling of calm, of peace, of awe."

"Close your eyes again. Do you still sense the awe, the calm?"

"Yes, I do." She squeezed his hand. "That was ingenious. You've shown me that the feelings are in my mind. You've manipulated me into believing there's a spiritual nature to the place. The awe I sense is from the physical aspect of the space, then my memory of it."

"That's what the bishops and priests do. They manipulate the actual spirit of the people. Let's look around. The amazing architecture and the superb ornamental detail are major parts of their demonstration of the power of God. There's a lot of symbolism in here. A church like this would have taken over a century to build, and then there will have been a continuous refinement and embellishment."

"Oh, my God. The intricate patterns of arches holding up the roof, the exquisitely painted designs in them, the light coming through the multi-coloured windows. This is amazing. Are they all like this?"

"This one is rather plain compared to the others I've seen. Looks like it suffered from the Iconoclastic Fury."

"What's that?"

"In the sixteenth century, the people began rebelling against the Church. Icons, statues, paintings and other religious decorations were destroyed by protesters. These people became known as Protestants, and the Church of Rome began to splinter into factions. It still splinters as opportunists create new religions with new fantasy stories to serve their greed and subjugate people by using fear and guilt."

"What about Judaism? It's also a religion."

"Yes, and a lifestyle. It pre-dates Christianity by fifteen hundred years. In fact, the Christian religion is a splinter of it. They share the same Bible, the Old Testament, and they added new stories to it, purported to be the words of Jesus Christ. He seems to have been a wise and spiritually well-founded man, but his followers soon began distorting his words to better serve themselves."

David and Maria explored the cathedral interior for another quarter hour, marvelling at the graceful architecture, and then they headed back out into Münsterplatz to warm in the afternoon sun. Maria shivered at the sensation and looked at the goosebumps on her arms. "I didn't realise how chilled I'd become until I stepped out."

David hugged her to his chest and rubbed her back. "How about some tea and a piece of pie?" He nodded to the sunny patio. "We can rewarm over there."

They sat enjoying wildberry pie with whipped cream and cups of tea as they watched the people in the busy square. Maria looked across to the cathedral and shook her head. "I'll never look at a church the same way again. I had no idea."

"The religions call them houses of God. I prefer to call them houses of greed."

As the church bells sounded, David glanced at his watch. "It's one thirty." He moved his chair back and looked at his shoes. "I've been watching the men walking by, and these shoes seem similar to what they're wearing. How will they work with the new suit? I don't know if something else is worn in the evening."

"I think they're fine. The black leather goes well with the navy blue. We can ask Pierre about it, and we can look in the windows for different styles as we head back."

David rose, offered his hand, and they strolled arm-in-arm along the street, pausing at the first shoe store to examine the window display, but saw nothing of interest. "These seem as good as any of those," David said as looked down. They continued along the street, and the closer they got to their hotel, the finer the shops.

Maria pointed to the window display in the shoe shop across from Giselle's. "There are sleeker ones here. Let's go in and have her show you some." David glanced at his watch, then led her in.

They were greeted by the woman who had served them earlier in the day. She measured David's feet, then brought three boxes from the rear of the shop. "These are the three styles of evening shoe that will fit you. Two from French Morocco and one Swiss-made."

He picked them up and examined their construction, flexed and twisted the soles and felt the suppleness of the leather. "I like these two. They appear to be of a higher quality than the other."

"Those are the Moroccan ones. They haven't yet learned the value of their work, but with the French there now, they soon will." She slipped one from each pair onto his feet, and he stood to check their fit and comfort by walking back and forth across the carpet.

"I like the sleeker look of the one on your left foot," Maria said. "How is the fit?"

"They're equally comfortable, but I also prefer the left one." He swapped shoes on his right foot and did another slow walk. "Good, I'll take these."

"You're decisive people. Most dither for what sometimes seems like forever."

David changed into his walking shoes, paid for his new evening pair, and they headed across to Giselle's. "Let's check if your gown is ready for another fitting. We've still a quarter-hour before we're due at Pierre's."

Giselle beckoned Maria into the back, then three minutes later, they returned to the front with Maria in the gown to model it for David.

"You're more beautiful each time I see you in it." He smiled as she slowly turned in front of him. "Absolutely gorgeous."

"The slippers will be another hour and a half or so," Giselle said as she picked a thread off Maria's gown. "Four o'clock to be safe. I'm here until seven."

Ten minutes later, David was in the dressing room while Maria looked at the neckties that Pierre had laid out on the jacket. "Find a favourite yet?" David asked as he came up behind her.

"These two I like. What do you think?"

He looked at each and felt their quality. "Let's do both." He turned to Pierre. "The trousers are much more comfortable now."

Pierre went down on one knee in front of him and looked up, blushing. "Pardon my hands again while I check." He probed for a long while, then made chalk marks on both thighs. "Turn around; let me check the seat." He ran his hands over the cloth there, then between David's legs to the front as he felt the fit. "Yes, minor adjustments only. I'm pleased."

Pierre stood and held the waistcoat and then the coat for David to put on, then he walked around him smoothing the cloth and making chalk marks. "Again, only a few minor adjustments. This will all be ready by five thirty."

As David and Maria walked toward the Embassy, Maria said, "I got the impression Pierre enjoyed adjusting your trousers. He spent a long time fondling your penis and balls."

"I sensed over-attention also. Some men prefer men as their lovers. I read about it after Father Bourgeois molested me, but I never understood it. It's called sexual inversion or uranism, and it's apparently not uncommon."

"I can't imagine how that would be." She shook her head. "It seems such a strange choice. I love how we fit together, but I can't see how they would." She laughed. "I suppose hands and mouths, at least they'd have no fear of unwanted pregnancy."

"It's the same with two women together. Some women prefer women as their lovers. That I can see more easily than two men together. It's called tribadism."

"Yes, I can more easily imagine two women as lovers. An intimate extension of the cuddling and caressing Mama and I have done." She squeezed his arm. "But I much prefer the way we fit together. That seems natural and far more exciting."