” Courtlaw laid his hand upon Ennison’s shoulder. ‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back.
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