Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. He watched her orgasm come to life and he could hold back no longer. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down.
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