“You mind your business,” she said bitterly. “And I’ll look after mine.”
“There doesn’t seem to be anything very rude in asking if you’re acting now,” said Michael.
“Oh, shut up! As if you didn’t know.”
“Know what?” he repeated.
He looked so genuinely puzzled that Poppy seemed to make an effort to overcome her suspicion of his mockery.
“It’s five years since I went on the game,” she said.
Michael blushed violently, partly on her account, partly for his own stupidity, and explained that Mrs. Murdoch had told him she was in the profession.
“Well, you didn’t expect her to say ‘my ground-floor front’s a gay woman,’ did you?”
He agreed that such an abrupt characterization would have surprised him.
“Well, I’m going out to get dinner now,” she announced.