“I don’t like the look of her, Flo. Once she’s installed upstairs you’ll be out on your arse.” “Oh, don’t!” said Flo. She felt hurt and a touch dismayed, as if Mr Fritz was letting her down. Somehow, unreasonably, she’d considered herself the only woman he wanted in his life, though their relationship had always been strictly platonic. “It’s a pity he and Stella can’t get divorced,” Bel remarked. It had taken her several years to get rid of Ivor. “Still, I suppose the poor chap’s got to dip his wick somewhere. I’m glad I’m a woman and not panting for it all the time.” Mrs Winters lasted only two months. “I couldn’t stand the way she stuck her little finger out like a flagpole when she drank her tea,” Mr Fritz confessed to Flo. “I felt I wanted to hang something on it.” He stared at her gloomily. “What happened to your chap from the income-tax office?” “I gave him up. We didn’t have much in common.” All Ray Meadows had wanted to talk about was figures.
