"Of course," Virginia continued, "I know we've got to be discreet. There can always be dictaphones and detectives and it seems that the F.B.I. knows all about this place, but can't you just—"
She jumped up and faced me. With an angry movement, she snatched off her dressing-gown and flung it on the floor.
"There!" she said. "Is there anything wrong with me? Am I repulsive? Or don't you care?"
It must have been the three specials that lifted me from the easy chair and whisked me across the room to the embattled red head, but it must have been my guardian angel that prompted my next move. I pulled out my fountain pen and wrote rapidly on the back of an envelope: "I suspect that we are watched."
Her eyes widened and she quickly grabbed her gown and draped it around her. I laid my finger to my lips.
"What I came to see you about, Virginia," I said, "is to tell you, once and for all, that all is over between us."
That was a mistake. She gave me a wink, dropped the gown and came and sat beside me on the arm of the chair.
"I too, Winfred," she said dramatically, "have become increasingly distressed by your apparent coldness."
She cuddled down and planted her lips on my ear while her tongue flicked like a little snake's.
"No," she continued, "the time has come, Winfred, when we must face the facts, unpleasant though they may be. I was never meant to be a part-time girl for any man."