She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. John said nothing. These were so outside her experience that she found it possible to thrust them almost out of sight by saying they would be “all right” in confident tones to herself. She pointed across the road. . He looked about for his hat, and put it on. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. ‘Possibly,’ he said. ’ Madame Valade reseated herself, and Gerald set himself to flatter her into relaxation again. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly.
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