"Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. “Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass. But she disapproved more and more of her own mental austerity. I know what I am doing better than you do. Probably a sick man's whim. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. You’ll come along of me, for you’re under arrest, too. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. The boat was set free, and the men resumed their seats. But she was relentless. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. Things happen to women—proper women—and all they have to do is to take them well. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. Recovering himself quickly his instinct of self-defence was quicker than his recollection of Anna’s presence.
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