His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. ’ While he trod a deliberate path through the pink saloon towards the door, Gerald encouraged a flow of harmless chatter about the people Madame had met and the parties she had attended. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. His technique had gained much subtlety over the years.
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