Her anger died and she eyed him. Heaven alone knows why. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. Then I threw a bucket of dirty water on his face and said, ‘Listen, asshole, let’s get one thing straight. ‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house.
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