” Courtlaw suddenly interposed. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. As a sex you’re a little under-trained—in affairs. It was only a matter of time. It was hot and dry. 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. She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. I don’t care WHAT happens.
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