―It, Simon.

―Ladies and gentlemen, I am most deeply obliged by your kind solicitations.

―It, Simon.

―I have no money but if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour to sing to you of a heart bowed down.

By the sandwichbell in screening shadow, Lydia her bronze and rose, a lady’s grace, gave and withheld: as in cool glaucous eau de Nil Mina to tankards two her pinnacles of gold.

The harping chords of prelude closed. A chord longdrawn, expectant drew a voice away.

― When first I saw that form endearing.

Richie turned.