“Forgive me,” he said. ” “Don’t let there be any more. Earles remarked genially. A pretty piece. ” Lucy replied. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. She saw the Chamberlain girls getting into a plethora of different cars (with barely a stitch on) with young men who seemed unnaturally excited about their first “dates”. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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