She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. ’ ‘Undoubtedly,’ Gerald agreed. Mike answered the door while still toweling his hands dry. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. She wormed her way past Sebastian, glanced at her mother’s blackened face, her obscenely naked body bulging with yellow and black buboes under the arms and in the groin that oozed stinking fluid. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone.
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