A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. He will have it that I’ve taken leave of my senses. " After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. . A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible.
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