She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. Finding all attempts at conversation with his companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic structure standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. ’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. One with the appearance of a bald little gnome yawned agonizingly. “It means that I have had enough of this slavery,” she declared. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears.
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