Sheila bellowed, a great wail of a sound from deep in her belly, flinging her tremendous weight towards him. "No," replied Jack, peremptorily. “Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. “It’s magnificent!” He leaned back and regarded her with his head a little on one side. But no; she must step warily. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. ’ ‘Ah, you know about that, then?’ ‘That much, yes. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. "Well," she said, in reply, "I may have done Jack an injustice.
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