’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. Madame Valade was that kind of woman. He groped her buttocks. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly.
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