“You are certain of this. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. It is we who have become the parasites and toys. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. She found herself looking sheepishly around the bedroom when a sudden tingle of electricity moved from her groin, fanning out from her belly. It probably had its own repulsive oubliette in the bottom, where tiny princesses could fall and break their necks. All other things were without weight or consequence before the fact that this poor young man would have to depend upon her for his life. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. ‘It must have been so, Melusine, or I wouldn’t have kissed you. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes.
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