Part 4 At eight that evening Miss Stanley tapped at Ann Veronica’s bedroom door. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. "If so, it won't pay. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. That’s why he was so annoyed, you know. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. Sheppard, falling on her knees. .
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