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voices in the forecourt： men and women exchanging words of wele。 At the corner； she had a glimpse of them。 Here they were； the Tabula Rasa。 In her imagination she'd elevated them to the dubious status of Grand Inquisitors； austere and merciless judges whose cruelty would be gouged into their faces。 There was perhaps one among this quartet…the eldest of the three men…who would not have looked absurd in robes； but the others had an insipidity about their features and a sloth in their bearing that would have made them bathetic in any garb but the most bland。 None looked particularly happy with his lot。 To judge by their leaden eyes； sleep had failed to befriend them lately。 Nor could their expensive clothes （everything charcoal and black） conceal the lethargy in their limbs。
She waited at the corner until they'd disappeared through the front door； hoping the last had left it ajar。 But it was once again locked； and this time she declined to knock。 While she might have brazened or flattered her way past a caretaker； none of the quartet she'd seen would have spared her an inch。 As she stepped away from the door another car turned off the road and glided into the forecourt。 Its driver was a male； and the youngest of the arrivees。 It was too late to dodge for cover； so she raised her hand in a cheery way and picked up her pace to a smart trot。
As she came abreast of the vehicle it halted。 She kept on walking。 Once past it； she heard the car door open and a fruity； overeducated voice said； 〃You there！ What are you doing？〃
She kept up her trot； resisting the temptation to run even though she heard his feet on the gravel； then another haughty holler as he came in pursuit。 She ignored him until she was at the property line and he was within grasping distance of her。 Then she turned； with a pretty smile； and said； 〃Did you call？〃
〃This is a private ground；〃 he replied。
〃I'm sorry； I must have the wrong address。 You're not a gynecologist； are you？〃 Where this invention sprang from she didn't know； but it colored his cheeks in two pulses。 〃I need to see a doctor as soon as possible。〃
He shook his head； covered in confusion。 〃This isn't the hospital；〃 he spluttered。 〃It's halfway down the hill。〃
Lord bless the English male； she thought； who could be reduced to near idiocy at the very mention of matters vaginal。
〃Are you sure you're not a doctor？〃 she said； enjoying his disfiture。 〃Even a student？ I don't mind。〃
He actually took a step back from her at this； as though she was going to pounce on him and demand an examination on the spot。
〃No； I'm…I'm sorry。〃
〃So am I；〃 she said； extending her hand。 He was too baffled to refuse； and shook it。 〃I'm Sister Concupiscentia；〃 she said。
〃Bloxham；〃 he replied。
〃You should be a gynecologist；〃 she said appreciatively。 〃You've got lovely warm hands。〃 And with that she left him to his blushes。
There was a message from Chester Klein on the answering machine when she got back； inviting her to a cocktail party at his house that evening； in celebration of what he called the Bastard Boy's return to the land of the living。 She was at first startled that Gentle had decided to make contact with his friends after all his talk of invisibility； then flattered that he'd taken her advice。 Perhaps she'd been over…hasty in her rejection of him。 Even in the short time she'd spent in Yzordderrex； the city had made her think and behave in ways she'd never have countenanced in the Fifth。 How much more so for Gentle； whose catalogue of adventures in the Dominions would have filled a dozen diaries。 Now he was back in the Fifth； perhaps he was resisting some of those bizarrer influences； like a man returned to civilization from some lost tribe； sluicing off the war paint and learning to wear shoes again。 She called Klein back and accepted the invitation。
〃My dear child； you are a sight for sore eyes；〃 he said when she appeared on his doorstep that evening。 〃So stylishly unnourished！ Malnutrition a la mode。 Perfection。〃
She hadn't seen him in a long time； but she didn't remember his ever being so fulsome in his flattery before。 He kissed her on both cheeks and led her through the house into the back garden。 There was still warmth in the descending sun； and his other guests…two of whom she knew； two of whom were strangers…were sipping cocktails on the lawn。 Though small and high…walled； the garden was almost tropically lush。 Inevitably； given Klein's nature； it was entirely given over to flowering species； no bush or plant weled if it didn't bloom with immoderate abandon。 He introduced her to the pany one by one； starting with Vanessa； whose face…though much changed since they'd last met…was one of the two she knew。 She had put on a good deal of weight and even more makeup； as though to cover one excess with another。 Her eyes； Jude saw when she said hello； were those of a woman who was only holding back a scream for decorum's sake。
〃Is Gentle with you？〃 was Vanessa's first question。 〃No； he's not；〃 Klein said。 〃Now have another drink and go and dally in the rosebushes。〃
The woman took no offense at his condescension but made straight for the champagne bottle； while Klein introduced Jude to the two strangers in the party。 One； a balding young man in sunglasses； he introduced as Duncan Skeet。
〃A painter；〃 he said。 〃Or； more precisely； an impressionist。 Isn't that right； Duncan？ You do impressions； don't you？ Modigliani； Corot； Gauguin。。。。〃
The joke was lost on its butt； though not on Jude。 〃Isn't that illegal？〃 she said。
〃Only if you don't talk about it；〃 Klein replied； which remark brought a guffaw from the fellow in conversation with the faker； a heavily mustached and accented individual called Luis。
〃Who's not a painter of any persuasion。 You're not anything at all； are you； Luis？〃
〃How about a Lotos…eater？〃 Luis said。 The scent Jude had taken to be that of the blossoms in the borders was in fact Luis' aftershave。
〃I'll drink to that；〃 Klein said； moving Jude on to the last of the pany。 Though Jude knew the woman's face she couldn't place it； until Klein named her…Simone…and she remembered the conversation she'd had at Clem and Taylor's； which had ended with this woman heading off in search of seduction。 Klein left them to talk while he went inside to break open another bottle of champagne。
〃We met at Christmas；〃 Simone said。 〃I don't know if you remember？〃
〃Instantly；〃 Jude said。
〃I've had my hair chopped since then； and 1 swear half my friends don't recognize me。〃
〃It suits you。〃
〃Klein says I should have kept it and had it made into jewelry。 Apparently hair brooches were the height of fashion at the turn of the century。〃
〃Only as memento mori；〃 Jude said。 Simone looked blank。 〃The hair was usually from someone who'd died。〃
The woman's fizz…addled features still took a little time to register what she was being told； but when she grasped the point she let out a groan of disgust。
〃I suppose that's his idea of a joke；〃 she said。 〃He has no sense of fucking decency； that man。〃 Klein was appearing from the back door； bearing champagne。 〃Yes； you！〃 Simone said。 〃Don't you take death seriously？〃
〃Have I missed something？〃 Klein said。