‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit.
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