I picked up the graphic novel of this first—I love the Beardsley-style illustrations. It appeals to my interest in steam-punk and decorative men.

Then I discovered my father had the novel—he claimed I_ had given it to him. It had got him in trouble with The Mother because she thought the book very immoral and rude. She then informed me that there were several other books of a similar nature in my father’s collection and wasn’t it dreadful (these turned out to be something called the _Saturday Book, an illustrated guide to the less savoury wall paintings of Pompeii, and a collection of articles from Esquire).

I guess The Mother thinks I don’t know about the Anais Ninn book in her knicker drawer.