” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. She will die if she knows I have a gun. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. "I want you for the job I spoke of a short time ago, Nab," he said.
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