It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. 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. ’ Gerald grinned. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. ‘Scream and you are dead,’ he snapped, and released her mouth so that he might open the door. “Yes, I remember you now. From what do you wish to be rescued?’ The girl fluttered her eyelashes, sighed dramatically and spread her hands. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. He came over to me. . .
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