“I don’t sleep with men,” she went on, ignoring his interruption. “It’s part of my independence. I’m very independent. I never take and I never give.”
He didn’t say anything. What was there to say?
“You’ll probably think I’m lying, but I’m not. My bed life is very exclusive. I hate being mauled. It’s inconvenient sometimes. I suppose I shouldn’t be so damned poor if I wasn’t so damned fussy.”
George flinched. There didn’t seem to be anything further to say about the subject. They stood side by side looking out of the window at the street lights, the rain and the wet pavements. They remained like that for a long time.
8
George was asleep when Ella brought him his morning tea. He raised his head as she drew the curtains, and blinked round the room.
”’Ave you been using scent, Mr George?” she asked, her shiny little face tilted up as she sniffed the air. “It’s ever so nice.”
Scent? What did she mean? George gaped at her.
“No,” he said, yawning “Of course not.” Then he remembered Cora, and a guilty flush rose to his face. Ella was watching him.
“Well, I am surprised at you, Mr George,” she said, her eyes wide. “’Oo was she?”