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. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. He felt her relaxation and let go of her wrists. He proposed, he wanted to possess her! He loved her. ‘You could not tell it,’ said Melusine, ‘unless you were as close as we.
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