’ Madame gave one of those breathy laughs. 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. . ‘Come, mademoiselle. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. Kneebone, what with flirting with Mrs. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. " "State the facts, then. ” “Fine.
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