LITMIR.BIZ

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barely-perceptible alteration of her posture, Nicholas guessed that she did, in fact, understand Angela all too well, ‘but this is beside the point. You are unhealthy, Miss Ashton, in both a physical and a moral sense. The whole of New Landern knows that you are a whore, Miss Ashton, and it is well known that whores lead dissolute and unhealthy lives. Do you really refuse my moral guidance?’

      ‘I never refuse guidance, Lady Grangeshield, but surely guidance must be sought, not imposed.’

      ‘Yes, you will quote Keane to me, Miss Ashton, but without understanding. You are a monkey, are you not, Miss Ashton, a monkey which chatters in imitation of what it imitates? But what do you say yourself from your own understanding, or perhaps you have none?’

      ‘What I say myself, Lady Grangeshield, is that you must address your grievance to the Club of Appreciation. Surely I do not quote someone else when I say this?’

      Nicholas could see the muscles flexing in Isabel’s back on hearing this. He guessed that Isabel was being fought to a draw, though he could not follow exactly how the blows were being given and received in the battle he was witnessing. What was the Club of Appreciation, anyway?

      ‘You are a whore, Miss Ashton. A whore! Surely that has nothing to do with the Club of Appreciation, unless you slept with all those who voted for you!’

      ‘I did no such thing, Lady Grangeshield. You must take up the reason for their vote with those who voted. But that has nothing to do with me!’

      ‘I see you do not deny that you are a whore, Miss Ashton. Men buy your body for money, do they not? Is your soul also for sale, Miss Ashton? Or have you already sold it?’

      ‘I must ask you to leave my dressing room, Lady Grangeshield.’

      ‘But surely I have not offended you, Miss Ashton?’

      ‘I have other business to attend to, Lady Grangeshield, and if you will excuse me, I must be moving on.’

      ‘Other business? Would this other business be Lord Foxley, by any chance? The whole of New Landern knows that you are his whore, as you were the whore of Hudson before him, and Nieves before him, and Zavanna before him. Yes, I am sure that Lord Foxley is eagerly awaiting you in order to receive the services you will provide for him in those conditions of privacy and secrecy which I am given to understand are associated with such transactions.’

      ‘Lady Grangeshield, I must ask you once again to leave my dressing room. It is only common courtesy on your part to respect my wishes in this matter.’

      ‘Common courtesy? How dare you presume to lecture me about courtesy? You, a whore who has climbed out of the gutter, presume to lecture me about courtesy? How dare you! You know nothing of such matters as courtesy, Miss Ashton. You are merely an ape who mimics the behaviour that you witness.’

      ‘Whatever my understanding of courtesy, Lady Grangeshield, you are in my dressing room and I am asking you to leave.’

      ‘This is not your dressing room, Miss Ashton. It is the dressing room of the Emperor Theatre, and I assure you, if I spoke to the owners of this establishment, they would see to it that you never set foot in this dressing room again.’

      ‘Then you must speak to them, Lady Grangeshield, for I continue to insist that you leave my dressing room. I grow tired of asking you to leave.’

      ‘Yes, you must not grow tired, Miss Ashton. You must conserve your energies for the attentions of Lord Foxley later tonight. Your work for the day is not yet done, is it, Miss Ashton? You have your work as a whore ahead of you still!’ With that Isabel left. Her companions must have gone with her without a word of farewell, for Angela stood up and closed the door after them. She returned to her seat before the mirror and resumed inspecting her face, cloth in hand to remove the remainder of her stage make-up. Nicholas could not see that she was the least bit rattled.

      ‘Are you all right, Miss Ashton?’ Nicholas asked her.

      ‘Yes, thank you, Mr Raspero, I am perfectly all right.’ Angela sounded as if nothing had happened at all.

      ‘Lady Grangeshield gave you a hard time,’ Nicholas said cautiously, not knowing whether to say anything or not.

      ‘Did she? I did not notice.’

      ‘She called you a whore several times. Did you not notice that?’

      Angela said nothing in reply. She was tidying up the surface of her dressing room table, neatly stacking everything away. Nicholas could tell she was the tidy sort of person who likes to have everything in its right place.

      ‘Will you excuse me while I change, Mr Raspero?’

      Nicholas stood up. ‘I’ll wait outside.’

      ‘Oh no, Mr Raspero, it is perfectly all right. Please stay where you are. I have a screen to change behind.’

      Angela stepped to the other side of the dressing room and pulled a screen across the room, leaving large gaps between the screen and the walls. Nicholas sat down uncertainly, not sure whether or not he should step outside anyway. He could hear Angela moving about behind the screen and the rustle of clothes falling to the floor. He tried not to think about what was happening behind the screen, but it was next to impossible for his mind not to wander. He tried to sit perfectly still as if that would help; it helped, but only a little bit.

      Angela took her time changing behind the screen, in no rush to be done with her performance. This was the first step she always took when Jolly had selected a client for her. Not one of them had waited on the other side of the screen; they had all put their heads around and playfully manouevred themselves to her side of the screen. After playing the shocked lady who had no idea what to do while they ogled her, she would firmly recover her composure and keep them at bay by being very strict about driving them away, but the tantalised men dug deep into their pockets to come up with gifts to win her favours, and after playing them along for a while and milking them for all she could, she would allow them to obtain the outcome they sought. After that, it was just a matter of staying ahead of them and breaking off relations with them just before they were about to leave her — that always brought them around with a fresh shower of gifts, and she would allow herself to be enticed back into their arms where she would remain, at least until the whole process was repeated or Jolly told her to change clients.

      Angela knew she could not expect gifts from Nicholas. Yet, to keep him as her protector would be worth the occasional extra work. It would in a sense be a gift, even if it was not one she could cash in. The successors of Jolly, who had not dared touch her while Jolly was alive because she was his investment, had nonetheless leered at her and made suggestive remarks, as Jolly was indifferent to this kind of treatment of her; now they did not even look her way except politely. They had too much to lose to make an enemy of Nicholas. She wanted to keep Nicholas as her protector, and her seduction of him was beginning now in order to guarantee that protection. Yet, she finished dressing without Nicholas trying to make his way to her side of the screen. She pulled the screen back to see Nicholas still sitting where he had been.

      Angela turned her attention to the strategy of jealousy. ‘I must leave soon, Mr Raspero. Lord Foxley is waiting for me.’

      ‘Lucky Lord Foxley.’

      ‘I believe he has a gift for me tonight, Mr Raspero.’

      ‘It can’t be a surprise gift, then.’

      ‘It is a hairbrush.’

      ‘Don’t you have a hairbrush?’ Nicholas asked in surprise.

      ‘This hairbrush has a silver backing with an inset ruby. A very large ruby.’

      ‘Does it indeed? Well, that’s nice.’

      ‘And why shouldn’t I, Mr Raspero?’ Angela asked him calmly. ‘Tell me that. Why not?’

      ‘You make your own choices now, Miss Ashton. You are no longer Jolly’s spy.’

      ‘Tagalong told me you burned those notebooks.’

      ‘I

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