"What does Mr. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. He had not considered this aspect of the business. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. ’ ‘But it is a very good English name,’ she protested. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. ‘To the contrary, I will have you to know something. ‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame.
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