‘Do not beg my pardon. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Hobson was not 147 amused by the situation, which handled wrongly, could lose him his job. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. . “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. With the same inducements we should all do the same thing.
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