The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. ’ A giggle answered him. On one side of the handbill a print of the reigning sovereign, Anne, had been pinned over the portrait of William the Third, whose aquiline nose, keen eyes, and luxuriant wig, were just visible above the diadem of the queen. ’ Gerald knew the caress in his voice was a trifle ironic. She felt terribly modern, even sporty as the magazines declared you should be. You were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat.
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