He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. He might not condone it, but the feelings that had prompted it augured well for Melusine’s safety. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale.
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