“To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. It is quite outrageous of me to go about rescuing a damsel in distress—’ ‘Who does not in the least wish to be rescued,’ put in Melusine. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking.
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