“Obscure,” he repeated. “But so is everything. So is life in general. And you,” he stepped towards her, “you in particular.”
“Am I?” she lifted her limpid eyes at him. Oh, how her heart was beating, how hard it was to be the fastidious lady, calmly satisfying her caprice. How difficult it was to be accustomed to this sort of thing. What was going to happen next?
What happened next was that the Complete Man came still closer, put his arms round her, as though he were inviting her to the fox-trot, and began kissing her with a startling violence. His beard tickled her neck; shivering a little, she brought down the magnolia petals across her eyes. The Complete Man lifted her up, walked across the room carrying the fastidious lady in his arms and deposited her on the rosy catafalque of the bed. Lying there with her eyes shut, she did her best to pretend she was dead.
Gumbril had looked at his wrist watch and found that it was six o’clock. Already? He prepared himself to take his departure. Wrapped in a pink kimono, she came out into the hall to wish him farewell.
“When shall I see you again, Rosie?” He had learnt that her name was Rosie.
She had recovered her great lady’s equanimity and detachment, and was able to shrug her shoulders and smile. “How should I know?” she asked, implying that she could not foresee what her caprice might be an hour hence.
“May I write then, and ask one of these days if you do know?”
She put her head on one side and raised her eyebrows, doubtfully. At last nodded. “Yes, you can write,” she permitted.
“Good,” said the Complete Man, and picked up his wide hat. She held out her hand to him with stateliness, and with a formal gallantry he kissed it. He was just closing the front door behind him, when he remembered something. He turned round. “I say,” he called after the retreating pink kimono. “It’s rather absurd. But how can I write? I don’t know your name. I can’t just address it ‘Rosie’”
The great lady laughed delightedly. This had the real capriccio flavour. “Wait,” she said, and she ran into the sitting-room. She was back again in a moment with an oblong of pasteboard. “There,” she said, and dropped it into his great-coat pocket. Then blowing a kiss she was gone.