In a London Fog
Paperback, 368 pages
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Perhaps if they were less sensitive, less romantic, less tuned in to each other, less mature, or even more experienced it would have been easier. He couldn’t afford to lose anything. He had nothing. Less than nothing. But it made up his world. He was an innocent, even in the murky world around him, a good and decent man without guile who played cops and robbers for a living. Was it that or his sex appeal that stopped her in her tracks? Was it that combination? She didn’t know, and she didn’t know what he’d do if she just turned away but she didn’t want to hurt him or see him hurt himself for her sake. Nor did she want to be hurt.
“…But women’s ways are witless ways…”