Chapter 36

They crossed it in the glare of a car’s headlights, and he saw her flesh-coloured legs lit up, and a knot of green silk on the front of her frock. “My name’s Pybus,” he said, as they reached the kerb. “Mine’s Gadsden, Olive G. They might have called me Gadabout. That’s a joke, please.” But he did not laugh. She appeared inclined towards silence for the rest of their walk, for silence can be like a veil, and though a woman does not veil her face she can make play with her “atmosphere.” He had talked to her sufficien…