She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. ‘But he must have—’ ‘Nicholas Charvill never did anything he must do,’ Mrs Sindlesham said evenly. It was easy enough to lie to anyone else. That’s probably true. She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. ‘I’ve never before made love at pistol point.
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