said Harry. “More like Hotel des Boobs.” “Come away from that window,” said Brenda. “Stop behaving like a Peeping Tom.” “What d'you mean, a Peeping Tom?” said Harry, continuing to squint down at the pool area through the slats of their bedroom shutters. “A Peeping Tom is someone who interferes with someone else's privacy.” “This is a private hotel.” “Hotel des Tits. Hotel des Bristols. Hey, that's not bad!” He turned his head to flash a grin across the room. “Hotel Bristols, in the plural. Geddit?” If Brenda got it, she wasn't impressed. Harry resumed his watch. I'm not interfering with anyone's privacy,” he said. “If they don't want people to look at their tits, why don't they cover them up? “Well go and look, then. Don't peep. Go down to the pool and have a good look.” Brenda dragged a comb angrily through her hair. “Hold an inspection.” “You're going to have to go topless, you know, Brenda, before this holiday's over.” Brenda snorted derisively.
