His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room. “I feel shabby and disgraced. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. “How dare you!” They were both astonished at the other’s strength. ’ ‘How can you possibly enquire for her?’ demanded Hilary acidly. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. “Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs.
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