’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. I will do anything and everything I can to become your equal. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living. She continued to fan herself. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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