She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. When he had finished he took up the wine list and ordered a bottle of dry champagne. She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. “Rubbish!” he answered. Because their human lives were so short, the happily married had no time to get sick of one another. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. All the best novels have been written by women, and yet see how men sneer at the lady novelist still! There’s only one way to get on for a woman, and that is to please men.
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