“Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. A knot of three policemen in conflict with her staggered toward Ann Veronica’s attendants and distracted their attention. For freedom at least. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. “It would have been rash and unwise,” she said at the end of a meditation. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets. Sheila knew that the Eat & Shop on the corner of 53rd and Oleson was a flimsy front for an all-in-the-family whorehouse.
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