Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. “This,” he said, and then: “No! Is this sweeter? Very well. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Have you anything to tell me before you go?” Annabel laughed lightly. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. ’ Then I kicked him until he was black and blue. Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”.
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