” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. ’ ‘But you mind that I say I do not trust you. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. “I’ve plenty of pals,” he said, “who, when they’ve been doing Paris on the Q. Her anger died and she eyed him. One swift glance about the room, and a sensation of grim foreboding swept through him.
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