"I love her already. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. ” He looked at her, his eyes illuminated by the glow of the dashboard. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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