"I wonder," said Ruth. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. The Goopes were the oddest little couple conceivable, following a fruitarian career upon an upper floor in Theobald’s Road.
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