’ ‘Oui, mais—’ ‘You are, without exception, the most unprincipled, the most unscrupulous, the most shameless, immoral, devious—’ ‘Pardon me, sir,’ burst in Mrs Ibstock suddenly, her tone belligerent, bringing the captain’s tirade to an abrupt halt as he turned to glare at her. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem.
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