“I’ve seen that much,” she said. “Polluted but curable.”
“You’re not by any chance thinking of yourself as a Branstone River Conservancy, are you?”
“I rather like him, Dubby,” she said.
“Good Lord! You and Sam: I say, old thing, no offence, but you know he’s married?”
“I know,” said Ellie. “What’s she like?”
“Haven’t seen her since I was his best man. Wasn’t tempted to see more of her.”
“It’s as bad as that?”
“Oh, rather worse, I believe. Pitch that novel over. I’ll tell you in five minutes if it’s any use.”
“Five minutes isn’t very fair to the author,” she protested.
“Oh, quite. I’m a reviewer, and reviewing’s badly paid. It teaches you to rip the guts out of a novel quickly. Smoke that cigarette and I’ll tell you all about it by the time you’re through.”