Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. “We don’t let to ladies,” they said. "The Beachcombers. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. He smothered it down with such a good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. As a rule, Courtlaw told her softly, he talked right and left, and to everybody throughout the whole of the meal—tonight he was almost silent, and seemed to devote his whole attention to staring at Anna.
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