Hyde's House Quotes

I had learned to dwell with pleasure as a beloved daydream on the thought of the separation of these elements. If each I told myself could be housed in separate identities life would be relieved of all that was unbearable the unjust might go his way delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path doing the good things in which he found his pleasure and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil.

For God's sake!" Hart sprang to his feet. Everyone at the table stopped and stared at him, including Ian. "Do I have to be made a mockery of in my own house?" Mac leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "Would you prefer we made a mockery of you in the street? In Hyde Park, maybe? In the middle of Pall Mall? The card room in your club?" "Mac, shut it!

The door, indeed, stood open as before; but the windows were still shuttered, the chimneys breathed no stain into the bright air, there sounded abroad none of that low stir (perhaps audible rather to the ear of the spirit than to the ear of the flesh) by which a house announces and betrays its human lodgers.

Whatever you think your shortcomings are...you can't just lock yourself in the house so no one can notice or comment. We all have to take ourselves out into the world, flaws and all. And find a way to make the adjustment.

I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two. I say two, because the state of my own knowledge does not pass beyond that point. Others will follow, others will outstrip me on the same lines; and I hazard the guess that man will be ultimately known for a mere polity of multifarious, incongruous and independent denizens. I, for my part, from the nature of my life, advanced infallibly in one direction and in one direction only. It was on the moral side, and in my own person, that I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both; and from an early date, even before the course of my scientific discoveries had begun to suggest the most naked possibility of such a miracle, I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of these elements. If each, I told myself, could be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil. It was the curse of mankind that these incongruous faggots were thus bound together—that in the agonised womb of consciousness, these polar twins should be continuously struggling. How, then were they dissociated?

If each, I told myself, could be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable;

It was on the moral side, and in my own person, that I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both; and from an early date, even before the course of my scientific discoveries had begun to suggest the most naked possibility of such a miracle, I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of these elements. If each, I told myself, could be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil. It was the curse of mankind that these incongruous faggots were thus bound together—that in the agonised womb of consciousness, these polar twins should be continuously struggling. How, then were they dissociated?

I crossed the yard, wherein the constellations looked down upon me, I could have thought, with wonder, the first creature of that sort that their unsleeping vigilance had yet disclosed to them; I stole through the corridors, a stranger in my own house; and coming to my room, I saw for the first time the appearance of Edward Hyde.

A man named Hero washed the press cloths; Meany Hyde told Homer that the man had been a kind of hero, once. ‘That’s all I heard. He’s been comin’ here for years, but he was a hero. Just once,’ Meany added, as if there might be more shame attached to the rarity of the man’s heroism than there was glory to be sung for his moment in the sun.

The figure in these two phases haunted the lawyer all night: and if at any time he dozed over, it was but to see it glide more stealthily through sleeping houses, or move the more swiftly and still the more swiftly, even to dizziness, through wider labyrinths of lamp-lighted city, and at every street corner crush a child and leave her screaming.

That evening Mr. Utterson came home to his bachelor house in sombre spirits and sat down to dinner without relish. It was his custom of a Sunday, when this meal was over, to sit close by the fire, a volume of some dry divinity on his reading-desk, until the clock of the neighbouring church rang out the hour of twelve, when he would go soberly and gratefully to bed. On this night, however, as soon as the cloth was taken away, he took up a candle and went into his business-room. There he opened his safe, took from the most private part of it a document endorsed on the envelope as Dr. Jekyll’s Will, and sat down with a clouded brow to study its contents. The will was holograph, for Mr. Utterson, though he took charge of it now that

If each, I told myself, could be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil. It was the curse of mankind that these incongruous faggots were thus bound together—that in the agonised womb of consciousness, these polar twins should be continuously struggling. How, then were they dissociated?

And now,” said he, “to settle what remains. Will you be wise? will you be guided? will you suffer me to take this glass in my hand and to go forth from your house without further parley? or has the greed of curiosity too much command of you? Think before you answer, for it shall be done as you decide. As you decide, you shall be left as you were before, and neither richer nor wiser, unless the sense of service rendered to a man in mortal distress may be counted as a kind of riches of the soul. Or, if you shall so prefer to choose, a new province of knowledge and new avenues to fame and power shall be laid open to you, here, in this room, upon the instant; and your sight shall be blasted by a prodigy to stagger the unbelief of Satan.

So many of the men who came to the West were southerners— men looking for work and a new life after the Civil War—that chivalrousness and strict codes of honor were soon thought of as western traits. There were very few women in Wyoming during territorial days, so when they did arrive (some as mail-order brides from places like Philadelphia) there was a standoffishness between the sexes and a formality that persists now. Ranchers still tip their hats and say, "Howdy, ma'am" instead of shaking hands with me. Even young cowboys are often evasive with women. It's not that they're Jekyll and Hyde creatures—gentle with animals and rough on women—but rather, that they don't know how to bring their tenderness into the house and lack the vocabulary to express the complexity of what they feel.

If by ‘discuss this rationally’ you mean talk me out of my current course of action, then, no, thank you, I’d rather not. And you will note, I hope, how I’m not assuming your words are limited to their surface meaning. I’m digging deeper to examine all possible interpretations. I say this as a way of demonstrating how you might approach all your negotiations in the future,” she explained with meticulous condescension. “It’s shocking to me that you’re a member of the House of Lords and don’t understand how slippery oaths can be.

pretend that the world could not—would not—strike with no notice, offering up a loss that could take a person’s breath away. Of course it can, she thought, and you know it better than just about anybody. We only pretend it can’t, a minute or two at a time, to help us get up and out of the house in the morning.

He thanked me with a smiling nod, measured out a few minims of the red tincture and added one of the powders. The mixture, which was at first of a reddish hue, began, in proportion as the crystals melted, to brighten in colour, to effervesce audibly, and to throw off small fumes of vapour. Suddenly and at the same moment, the ebullition ceased and the compound changed to a dark purple, which faded again more slowly to a watery green. My visitor, who had watched these metamorphoses with a keen eye, smiled, set down the glass upon the table, and then turned and looked upon me with an air of scrutiny. "And now," said he, "to settle what remains. Will you be wise? will you be guided? will you suffer me to take this glass in my hand and to go forth from your house without further parley? or has the greed of curiosity too much command of you? Think before you answer, for it shall be done as you decide. As you decide, you shall be left as you were before, and neither richer nor wiser, unless the sense of service rendered to a man in mortal distress may be counted as a kind of riches of the soul. Or, if you shall so prefer to choose, a new province of knowledge and new avenues to fame and power shall be laid open to you, here, in this room, upon the instant; and your sight shall be blasted by a prodigy to stagger the unbelief of Satan.

quoted Lewis Hyde, whose pamphlet on John Berryman and alcohol he had read in his early months at Granada House: “Irony has only emergency use. Carried over time, it is the voice of the trapped who have come to enjoy the cage.” Then he continued: This is because irony, entertaining as it is, serves an almost exclusively negative function. It’s critical and destructive, a ground-clearing….[I]rony’s singularly unuseful when it comes to constructing anything to replace the hypocrisies it debunks.

Several years ago I was lecturing in British Columbia. Dr [Simon] Wessely was speaking and he gave a thoroughly enjoyable lecture on M.E. and CFS. He had the hundreds of staff physicians laughing themselves silly over the invented griefs of the M.E. and CFS patients who according to Dr Wessely had no physical illness what so ever but a lot of misguided imagination. I was appalled at his sheer effectiveness, the amazing control he had over the minds of the staid physicians….His message was very clear and very simple. If I can paraphrase him: “M.E. and CFS are non-existent illnesses with no pathology what-so-ever. There is no reason why they all cannot return to work tomorrow. The next morning I left by car with my crew and arrived in Kelowna British Columbia that afternoon. We were staying at a patient’s house who had severe M.E. with dysautanomia and was for all purposes bed ridden or house bound most of the day. That morning she had received a phone call from her insurance company in Toronto. (Toronto is approximately 2742 miles from Vancouver). The insurance call was as follows and again I paraphrase: “Physicians at a University of British Columbia University have demonstrated that there is no pathological or physiological basis for M.E. or CFS. Your disability benefits have been stopped as of this month. You will have to pay back the funds we have sent you previously. We will contact you shortly with the exact amount you owe us”. That night I spoke to several patients or their spouses came up to me and told me they had received the same message. They were in understandable fear. What is important about this story is that at that meeting it was only Dr Wessely who was speaking out against M.E. and CFS and how … were the insurance companies in Toronto and elsewhere able to obtain this information and get back to the patients within a 24 hour period if Simon Wessely was not working for the insurance industry… I understand that it was also the insurance industry who paid for Dr Wessely’s trip to Vancouver.

I remember the time I went to my first rare-book fair and saw how the first editions of Thoreau and Whitman and Crane had been carefully packaged in heat-shrunk plastic with the price tags on the inside. Somehow the simple addition of air-tight plastic bags had transformed the books from vehicles of liveliness into commodities, like bread made with chemicals to keep it from perishing. In commodity exchange it’s as if the buyer and the seller where both in plastic bags; there’s none of the contact of a gift exchange. There is neither motion nor emotion because the whole point is to keep the balance, to make sure the exchange itself doesn’t consume anything or involve one person with another. Consumer goods are consumed by their owners, not by their exchange. The desire to consume is a kind of lust. We long to have the world flow through us like air or food. We are thirsty and hungry for something that can only be carried inside bodies. But consumer goods merely bait this lust, they do not satisfy it. The consumer of commodities is invited to a meal without passion, a consumption that leads to neither satiation nor fire. He is a stranger seduced into feeding on the drippings of someone else’s capital without benefit of its inner nourishment, and he is hungry at the end of the meal, depressed and weary as we all feel when lust has dragged us from the house and led us to nothing.

Tom said, looking at Cassandra, “I live at Hyde Park Square. We could live in that one if you like it. But it would be an easy matter to move to one of the others, if you would prefer.” Cassandra blinked in confusion. “You have more than one house?” “Four,” Tom replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Seeing her expression, he appeared to realize how odd she found it, and continued more cautiously, “I also have a few undeveloped residential lots in Kensington and Hammersmith, and recently I acquired an estate in Edmonton. But it would be impractical to live that far from my offices. So … I thought I might turn that one into a town.” “You’re going to start a town?” Kathleen asked blankly. “For the love of God,” West said, “don’t name it after yourself.

I told Trent I had to be at work, and then he finally agreed to let me and some of the others go.” Agreed to let her go. Really? “You didn’t think to take Dixie home?” I asked, trying to hide my outrage. Her shoulders stiffened. “I was goin’ to, but Trent said he’d do it.” I really needed to have another talk with Trent. “How many other people were at the party? Who were they?” “About twelve or so.” She took a breath as if gathering her courage. “Monica and Blane Hyde. Rebecca Smelt. Matt Greenwood. And Amelia. Oh, and Rick Springfield.” She paused. “That’s it.” That lined up with the list Dixie had given me. Neither of them had mentioned Nash Jackson. “What about Rick’s cousin?” Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Why would Rick’s cousin show up at Trent’s party?” Her tone indicated she was talking about the bald one Amber had mentioned. “Not Herbert. Nash.” “Who’s Nash?” Why had no one heard of this guy? I shook my head. “Rick’s cousin, Nash Jackson, has been hanging around, and no one seems to know who he is. Could he have been there?” She shrugged. “Maybe . . . ? Rick didn’t stay long. He showed up early but left while Dixie was in the bathroom.” “Rick was in the house while Dixie was there?” “He may not have gone in the house. Most of us use the gate at the side of the house. The Dunbars added one of those fancy iron fences a few years back.” “But he could have gone inside.” And if Dixie had left her drink on a counter or table, he would have had access to drug her. But why drug her if he was leaving? So far I had more questions than answers. “Who was still there when you left?” “Amelia. And Gabby and Mark. Wait . . . ,” she said, her eyes widening. “Bruce showed up around the time I was leavin’.” “Bruce Jepper?” He wasn’t on Dixie’s list, but then he wouldn’t have been if he’d arrived after she lost consciousness. “Yeah. He looked pissed and drunk, but

One Sunday a girl from our study group, Jenny, invited us all to her mom's house in Hyde Park for a true Sunday Soul Food Dinner. Jenny's mom, Billie, a tiny woman with skin the color of café au lait, and silvery hair in a perfect chignon, laid out a soul food spread that brought a tear to the eye. Barbecue ribs, macaroni and cheese, collard greens with ham hocks, bread dressing, green beans, biscuits, candied sweet potatoes, creamed corn, and in the center of the table, a huge pile of fried chicken. I had never tasted anything like that fried chicken. The perfect balance of crisp batter to tender juicy meat. Everything that day was delicious, but the fried chicken was transcendent.

Do you have time for a ride?” His face softened, his relief evident. I hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until I felt his muscles loosen. “Whenever you want,” he said. “It’s yours.” Grabbing his hand, I pulled him up the path to the house. I looked over my shoulder, smiling. “I wasn’t talking about the car.” “Answer’s still the same, ipo.

Wildly Popular House Buying Strategy In A Competitive Environment It is important for the success of any real estate consulting company to have customers who are happy with their services. Customers who are unhappy with your real estate services business will stop buying your goods and will supply your business with a bad name. To guarantee that your business receives positive reviews, be certain to give your customers the best quality service. We've great ideas about how to create potential customers and keeping current ones satisfied. Each new employee you bring into your real estate services business could have long-lasting repercussions, so choose them carefully. Prior to inviting someone to join you, be certain that he or she's going to be capable of performing the duties the job will require, and that he or she's certified in any way needed. Whenever a new employee joins your business, you should see that they receive thorough training and could complete the tasks assigned to them. Successful companies have happy staff members that need to help you succeed; they tend to be the product of ongoing training. A real estate services business that hopes to be competitive in today's business world should have a professionally designed website. As a responsible business owner, you have to hire a professional website designer to build your site if you don't have the necessary skills to do it yourself. The appearance of your website is vital to its success, so be sure to use visually appealing templates and images that support your content. Never discount the importance of virtual retailing to your real estate consulting company's success; today's business climate requires that all companies establish and maintain a strong and authoritative web presence. Don't give in to complacency, even though your real estate consulting company is doing well. House buying experts universally believe that the very best time to expand your company is when you are gaining momentum. When you have dedication to the project, you could build a successful company. If your company could learn to embrace changes in the marketplace and always strive for something better, you will get through a lot of tough times.

Open Cast: House of Horror, Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll and Hyde.

Our problem is not that you feel one way and I feel another. Our problem is coming to us from outside this house.

BARTON CENTRE, 912, 9th Floor, Mahatma Gandhi Rd, Bengaluru, Karnataka - 560 001 Phone Number +91 8884400919 London Tour Package From Bangalore with Surfnxt Do you long to see the famous landmarks of London, learn about the city's fascinating past, and experience the vibrant culture of one of the world's greatest cities? Your ideal vacation is just a booking away with the London Tour Package from Bangalore offered by Surfnxt! From the bustling streets of London to the heart of India, this carefully curated package ensures that every aspect of your trip is taken care of. Why Should You Take Your Next Vacation to London? London, the UK's capital, is a place where tradition meets modernity. From Buckingham Palace to the Tower of London, the British Museum to Covent Garden's bustling streets, London has something for everyone traveling there. This city has it all, whether you're interested in history, art, and culture, or modern attractions like the London Eye and West End theaters. Your Travel Partner for a London Adventure: Surfnxt Surfnxt is known for creating tour packages that place a high value on comfort, ease of use, and engaging experiences. Their Bangalore-based London Tour Package is designed to let travelers see all of London's famous landmarks and sample the city's diverse culture. Highlights of the London Tour Package from Surfnxt: Flying directly from Bangalore: The hassle-free and comfortable journey from Bangalore to London is made possible by Surfnxt's direct or one-stop flights. With top carriers, you can have confidence of a smooth travel insight. Comprehensive Travel Route: Visits to all of London's must-see attractions are included in the package. You'll get a tour of the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, and Houses of Parliament with a guide. Additionally, you will tour Camden's bustling markets, visit beautiful parks, and take a scenic river cruise. Places to Stay in the Best Areas: Choose from a selection of hotels in the heart of London. Surfnxt ensures that your accommodation offers comfort and easy access to key attractions, whether it's a modern stay near Piccadilly Circus or a boutique hotel near Hyde Park. Options for Customizable Tours: Surfnxt offers adaptable itineraries that can be tailored to your interests, whether you want to include a day trip to nearby Oxford or Windsor or explore London's lively neighborhoods. You can also include guided museum tours, shopping trips, or a night out at a West End theater. Transfers and assistance with travel are seamless: Surfnxt takes care of all the details, from airport transfers in Bangalore and London to local transportation within the city, so you can focus on having fun. Throughout your stay, they also offer assistance with transportation. Assistance for Visas: Concerned about visa documentation? The travel specialists at Surfnxt provide travelers with complete visa assistance, guiding you through the application process for a stress-free experience. Pricing All-Inclusive: The price of the package is all-inclusive, covering everything from airfare to lodging to guided tours to entry fees to local transportation. Why Select Surfnxt? Your London Tour Package From Bangalore is sure to be one to remember thanks to Surfnxt's expertise and attention to detail. They put a strong emphasis on providing services that are tailored to each customer, ensuring that your travel experience is trouble-free, pleasurable, and full of memorable moments. Conclusion Surfnxt's London Tour Package from Bangalore offers the ideal combination of convenience, adventure, and cultural immersion, whether this is your first trip to London or your second. Surfnxt takes care of everything, from booking your flights to making sure you see the best of London, so you don't have to worry about anything. With Surfnxt, you can begin planning your trip to London right away!

Of course freedom for Hyde proves another form of bondage for Jekyll, just as in Hogg's book Wringham's 'Election' results not in liberation, as he imagines, but slavery to Gil-martin. For Jekyll as for Wringham there is a continual development and deterioration, so that in the end he finds himself going to sleep as Jekyll and waking as Hyde, with no control over events. He is mortally afraid that 'the balance of my nature might be permanently overthrown, the power of voluntary change be forfeited, and the character of Edward Hyde become irrevocably mine.

Now, there are silences, and there are silences, especially in the house where we grew up. If we’d ever talked about the silences out loud, I’m sure we’d have had a hundred different words to identify them like the Eskimos do with snow.

arm around behind her back, turned her toward the house again, and marched her to the front door. He knocked loudly. Pounded, really. With the flat side of his fist. Allie lost her ability to breathe. Her heart couldn’t decide whether to beat too much or too little. It hammered in her chest so hard she feared it might break, explode. Then it missed a beat or even two, leaving a sickening void in the middle of her body that felt like dying. A terrifying pause. Then a light came on inside the house. Victor opened the door, his face muddied by sleep. His hair looked disheveled, not perfectly slicked back, and he wore a haze of light beard. The light in the living room haloed him from behind. Allie couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but just his gaze in her direction made her heart skip beats again. The big man who held Allie spoke in a deep bass. “This the one you called about?” “The very one,” Victor said. “Where’d you find her?” “On her way out.” Victor made tsk noises with his tongue. Three of them. It made Allie feel like a trapped animal. Like the prey of a wild cat who likes to play with his terrified catch before . . . Allie didn’t want to carry the analogy any further than that. “You’ll have your hands full with this one,” Victor said.

As he sat down at the cool Formica table to eat his cereal, he heard Sadie, his curly-coated retriever, awake and ready to go, excited by the prospect of a light on in the house before sunrise. He sat listening to the periodic ringing of the chain-link of her kennel run as she jumped up and hit it with her front paws. Born and bred for just such a morning as this, Sadie recognized a good duck hunt at its first visible or audible indication.

On the third day, Sunday, we were guests of Mrs. Roosevelt, in Hyde Park. She gave us a conducted tour through the house, the Museum, which houses all the presents that the president had received, while in office, and to the garden and we stopped at the grave of F.D.R. That remained a very special week-end, a memorable highlight during my two years as a student. I still possess a snapshot, which a Greek student took of me in front of the Roosevelt Estate in Hyde Park, New York.

See, that’s always the thing. While you’re breathing and being all happy that the whole house didn’t come falling down, you know there’s another card drop coming right up. It’s not about gaining much. It’s just about gaining. It’s always about not losing everything in the exact moment you’re in.

Whatever you think your shortcomings are…you can’t just lock yourself in the house so no one can notice or comment. We all have to take ourselves out into the world, flaws and all. And find a way to make the adjustment.

No,” he said. He could have at least considered it before rejecting the notion entirely out of hand. “Why not?” “You said a rational discussion,” he pointed out, aggrieved by the deception. “Your proposing to dress up as a man and accompany me to look at a house is not rational. It’s ludicrous.” “Why is it ludicrous?” she asked. “I think I would make a very convincing fellow. I have the shoulders for it.

You haven’t asked how I found you,” Kesgrave said as he leaned back in the chair. “No,” Bea agreed. “You aren’t curious?” As she was only human, Bea was extremely interested in learning how he had contrived to appear on the first floor of Montague House at the very moment she required a figure of authority to smooth her way, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of revealing it. “Not particularly.” His lips twitched at the firmness of her tone. “I’m going to tell you regardless.” “Well, naturally, you cannot resist the opportunity to show off,” she said.

My initial solution came in the form of night rovings, like an owl or a coyote. I had been stagnating in the house too long, and some glowing ball of spirit in me threatened to fade to nothing, and I feared it might be like fire—you need fire to make fire, and you must never let the last of it die.

But dogs don’t regret what they didn’t do soon enough, or didn’t do enough of. Or what you didn’t do enough of. Dogs are where they are right now, in this moment, and nowhere else. Which is why I generally keep the company of dogs, she thought. Chapter Sixteen: Pete Pete eased the front door of his house open and then froze, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim living room.

Soon after the church was dedicated, the 1822 quarantine was imposed and the population of the Village soared. That year, one block east of the church, a window-sash maker named William Hyde erected a two-story clapboard house, along with a small workshop in the back.

wonderful reminder that as people raced to move to the Village that summer, they would have needed skilled craftsmen to build their homes. The work here—from the shutters to the six-over-six double-hung windows—speaks to Hyde’s skill. I can picture people getting off boats from the city at the Christopher Street pier, spying this house, and saying, “Yes—that’s what I want.

In 1851 Ada Lovelace and Charles Babbage met up for the last time when they, along with six million other people, visited the Great Exhibition together. Housed in a fantastic purpose-built glass pavilion in Hyde Park called the Crystal Palace, it was designed to showcase the achievements of British industry and all the stuff we’d nicked from overseas. Babbage, who never let an occasion get in the way of a grievance, was less impressed because not one of his amazing engines was on display.

on the other side of Howrah Bridge which, if one could ignore the stalls and rickshaws and white-clad hurrying crowds, was at first like another Birmingham; and then, in the centre, at dusk, was like London, with the misty, tree-blobbed Maidan as Hyde Park, Chowringhee as a mixture of Oxford Street, Park Lane and Bayswater Road, with neon invitations, fuzzy in the mist, to bars, coffee-houses and air travel, and the Hooghly a muddier, grander Thames, not far away. On a high floodlit platform in the Maidan, General Cariappa, the former commander-in-chief, erect, dark-suited, was addressing a small, relaxed crowd in Sandhurst-accented Hindustani on the Chinese attack. Around and about the prowed, battleship-grey Calcutta trams, bulging at exits and entrances with men in white, tanked away at less than ten miles an hour. Here, unexpectedly and for the first time in India, one was in a big city, the recognizable metropolis, with street names – Elgin, Lindsay, Allenby – oddly unrelated to the people who thronged them: incongruity that deepened as the mist thickened to smog and as, driving out to the suburbs, one saw the chimneys smoking among the palm trees.

at a time, to help us get up and out of the house in the morning.

Jake ignored my question. “Who was that first guy you were talkin’ to?” “James. You met him at my house before.” “Why were you talkin’ to him?” “He stopped me to say hi. Why?” “He touched you.” “He tucked my hair behind my ear. It isn’t like it was obscene.” “Not like what Green wanted to do to you. Why the fuck were you talkin’ to him?” His jaw clenched as his body tensed further. “He stopped me. I was politely excusing myself and trying to get away from him.” “That didn’t seem to be workin’, did it? You like what he was sayin’ to you, babe? Like hearin’ him talk about your sweet cunt? Were you thinkin’ about how it would be?” Jake asked crudely, his voice low and rough. “No, what? How what would be?” “Fuckin’ a rock star. Slummin’ it with the lowly mechanic not doin’ it for you anymore?” I stared up at him in wide-eyed disbelief. Fuck it. Poke the bear. I glared at him, my temper rising. “Why are you being a jerk? I’m here with you.” “Oh, so if I wasn’t around? I could leave if that’d make it easier for you to work the room.” He lowered his hands and stepped back. His shoulders were tight as his fists clenched by his sides. “You’re being an ass. Come find me when you calm down.” I shifted to leave but Jake moved back into my space. “James,” he sneered, “tucked your hair behind your ear. Do you know how intimate that is? How it felt to watch that? And Blake? I can’t even go there again. You stood there and let them touch you, Piper. Why?” His hands slammed back on the wall, punctuating the word as his body pressed close to mine. “Jake, I didn’t—” “You don’t care when we don’t see each other. I called you yesterday, fuckin’ hatin’ that I had to cancel, but you were totally fine with it. Christ, you couldn’t even call yourself my woman on the way here. Obviously, you’re still free and available to do what you want.

When taking a suitor to task for not demonstrating sufficient impatience to declare himself so as to scale the wall outside your bedchamber and enter your room through the window, which, you will recall, you did last night,” he said with conversational ease as if arriving to take tea in her sitting room, “it’s commonly accepted courtesy to have a window through which he may enter. In the absence of just such an aperture, I was forced to sneak into the house through the front door.

The room was perfectly quiet, with that padded, luxurious quietness that only money can buy in a modern city. However noisy the streets below may be, noises falter, discouraged, before they can climb to the top flats in such buildings as Hyde House; like those bees which never discover the luckless virgin flowers in the penthouse gardens of New York. It is not a peaceful silence. There is something drugged and enchanted about it. Conditioned air, central heating, and sound-proof walls are the only magicians employed to produce this hush, yet it gives a strange feeling to a visitor of being cut off from the living world.