So I dare say I was christened Jack. On Monday Charvill had still not returned, and the major duly presented himself at Mrs Chalkney’s house in Grosvenor Square, thanking his stars that his friend Roding would not be there to spoil sport. I enjoyed depicting the dichotomy of the peace and safety of the suburbs while also showing its dark side in the form of high school villain Katy Pfister, who, by the way, never gets her comeuppance like some of the other characters do. I’m talking to you now as though you had all the wisdom and charity in the world. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. He’s riding down the drive.
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