Of course I remonstrated, argued, implored.

It was like asking a hurricane politely not to blow.

Her name I remember was Gwenny.

One summer evening she had promised to meet him outside the house in Tavistock Square--he had arranged to take her to some Earl's Court Exhibition, where she could satiate a depraved passion for switch-backs, water-chutes and scenic railways.

At the appointed hour Jaffery stood in waiting on the pavement.