“Cupboard love, my dear. I know why you are here. I know what you want—Alfred.”
“What a man you be!”
“Don’t you want him? Speak up!”
She put her lips to his ear and whispered. “Yes, I do. There!”
“And you came here to tell me this?”
“N—no.”
“Then why did you come?”
“Because of what Sir Geoffrey said. What did he mean? What did he mean?”
Fishpingle felt her cheek rubbed softly against his. The little witch meant to abuse her powers. And her sweetness, the artlessness of her avowal, were irresistible. Indecision took to its heels. Then and there he registered a vow to fight on the lover’s side, to fight, if need be, to a finish. He said tentatively:
“About eugenics?”