He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. Nor my grandfathers both. Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Too bad he’s not interested in any girl who’s not a musician.
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