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“Do you think they’re only flirting?” she said eventually. “Or is it love?” The band had finished and were preparing to start again. The couple were still holding each other, smiling and talking, his head sunk toward hers, hair hanging lankly, sipping at her forehead.

“Oh, one or the other, I e…

If Mrs. Simpson surveyed as from a pediment, Mrs. Laird was suggestive of a large ornamental gate. Impressive; attractive even, if you could see the attraction in heavy iron, manipulated by supreme technical skill. Violet was always trying to look past her, to get a proper view of things. She had g…

“She isn’t here yet,” Edmund said, swallowing a mouthful.

“I wonder what she’ll be wearing,” Albert said. He was a trim, dapper young man, who affected a monocle.

“Awfully hot, isn’t it?” Edmund said.

“If she wears anything like last year I’ll simply fall at her feet.”

They looked at …

What had our relationship meant to Jacques? And what sort of person was he really? I was mistaken when I thought that his marriage showed him in his true colours and that after a period of youthful romanticism he was going to settle down calmly and become the bourgeois he had always been at heart. …

[...] Another thing that impressed me about them was that they had a fairly precise idea of the sort of books they wanted to write. I had gone on fatuously declaring that I ‘would tell all’; it was at once too much and too little. I was alarmed to discover that the novel sets countless problems who…