207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. Sir John heard gossip about us—about Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a dancer at the cafés chantants, and concerning whom there were many stories which were false, and a few—which were true. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. He smiled. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. She saw the Chamberlain girls getting into a plethora of different cars (with barely a stitch on) with young men who seemed unnaturally excited about their first “dates”. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. I have done n-nothing. You on the other hand have to come to London, a worker, with the responsibility of life upon your own shoulders—and in addition all the burden of her follies. Stanley poured wine.
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