The Bitchster strikes again. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. As he was leaving the hotel, Ah Cum stepped up to his side. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him.
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