“Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. ’ Gerald grinned. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar. This was his humiliation as well as hers. Come back—you must come back.
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