We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. " The stranger was for a moment lost in reflection. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. org/license). Good night.
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