Your second turn is not over, is it?” She laughed a little hardly. I told him instantly and shamelessly that the play was going to be worth ten thousand pounds. It was horrible. “Women are mocked,” she said. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. She moaned as he buried himself completely to the hilt. 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.
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