She stared at him as he abandoned the search for his underwear and went instead to the armchair, where his black evening coat was hanging, and took out a leather case of cheroots. He drew one out, bit off the end, and then sat naked on the end of the bed, his right ankle crossed over his left knee, and lit up. He puffed smoke, spat a shred of tobacco from the tip of his tongue, coughed, and then turned back to the girl.

‘You’re cruel,’ she said. ‘That’s a cruel thing to say.’

‘Is it?’

‘You should know that it is. We can’t help the way we’re made. Didn’t your parents ever teach you that?’

‘All my parents ever taught me was that the value of the dollar exceeds the value of any and all human principles, and that women who don’t wear bonnets are anybody’s for the asking.’

The girl sat up in bed revealing breasts that were small and white and chubby. ‘You told me last night you loved me.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘You said you loved me, and that you’d marry me as soon as you were able.’

He sucked at his cheroot and grinned. ‘Under the influence of fifteen stone fences, a man would say anything. Mind you, I’ve drunk more. But then, on the other hand, I’ve said worse things.’

He stood up and put his hands on his hips. ‘What I really want to know about last night is where I flung down my long johns.’

She was silent for a moment. Outside, the summer rain lashed against the window and gurgled along the gutters of the parapet. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked him, as he bent over to explore under the bureau.

‘Collis,’ he told her. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Kathleen Mary.’

‘I might have guessed.’ Collis reappeared, red-faced but triumphantly holding up his combinations. ‘There,’ he said. ‘The finest suit of French Bon-Bon underwear that ever strode the streets. Guaranteed, in times of emergency or pressing lust, to open in a flash.’

Kathleen Mary dropped her eyes. Even in her profession she considered it indelicate to spend too much time admiring a gentleman’s undergarments. She kept her eyes lowered while Collis, his cheroot clenched between his teeth, climbed into the Bon-Bon outfit and buttoned himself up. When he was finished, he looked as if he were about to enter a velocipede race, or swim the Hudson blindfolded. He sat down on the bed again and looked into Kathleen’s eyes with that dark, worried expression that may have been worry but was more likely to be pained impatience.