Callaghan went back to the sitting-room.
'What were we talkin' about?' he said.
She looked at him demurely.
'We were talking about quotations .. the one under discussion was about love being akin to hatred.'
'Oh yes,' said Callaghan. 'Well, I've got a theory ..' He paused, his glass halfway to his mouth. 'Would it bore you to hear it?' he queried.
'Not at all, Mr Callaghan,' she said. 'Mr Selby, who -- as you pointed out when we were having our little discussion, just after you put Jelks hors de combat -- has more experience in his little finger than I have in what you were pleased to call 'the entire area of my nice figure' -- I'm glad you think it nice -- well, Mr Selby said that you were a person of rather extraordinary experience, that you were very, very deep, and that it was well worth while to listen to you. I should be very glad to hear an exposition from you on the 'love is akin to hate' theory.'
Callaghan looked at her. Her eyes were twinkling. He was about to speak when the house telephone in the bedroom rang. He asked to be excused ..
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