” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley.
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