Interlude with a Kept Woman

In her house on Threadneedle Street, Zoë Styles watched in the three-way mirror of her vanity, while three reflections of Johnny Abercrombie put on their pants. The room was large, but still crowded, because the wide bed had a huge old-fashioned canopy. A secretary desk and a slipper chair had been added to the usual bedroom furniture. She wondered what the man who kept her would think if he knew about her romp between the sheets with one of Baltimor...