‘Nothing,’ I said, rising, ‘except that I thank you. Be sure that I am grateful. You have had a task which must have been very unpleasant to you.’
She smiled, virtuously happy.
‘You made it easy,’ she murmured.
I perceived that she wanted to kiss me; but I avoided the caress. How I hated kissing women!
‘No more need be said,’ she almost whispered, as I put my hand on the knob of the front-door. I had escorted her myself to the hall.
‘Only remember your great mission, the influence you wield, and the fair fame of our calling.’
My impulse was to shriek. But I merely smiled as decently as I could; and I opened the door.
And there, on the landing, just emerging from the lift, was Ispenlove, haggard, pale, his necktie astray. He and Mrs. Sardis exchanged a brief stare; she gave me a look of profound pain and passed in dignified silence down the stairs; Ispenlove came into the flat.
‘Nothing will convince her now that I am not a liar,’ I reflected.
It was my last thought as I sank, exquisitely drowning, in the sea of sensations caused by Ispenlove’s presence.