"Good God!" said Lord Alcester. "Where can we talk?"
She laughed again, the same bitter laugh, and surveyed her reflection in a shop-window.
"Yes," she said, "a box at the Frivolity wouldn't do for me now, would it? Here, I know of a place, if you'll follow me."
"All right," said Lord Alcester. "Walk slowly."
She led him by side-streets into back-streets. The little public-house was very quiet, discreet, sinful and unsavoury. She pushed her way through to a little room behind the bar.
"Now then," she said.
With difficulty Lord Alcester dragged off his heavy fur coat and flung himself down on the crimson velveteen.
"What a godless hole this is," he said. "What are you going to have?"
"Glass of port," she said promptly.
"You haven't taken to spirits yet?"