‘Not even attractive?’ she mocked, bitingly.

He knitted his brows in sudden exasperation.

‘Don’t you see that it’s not a question of visual appreciation in the least,’ he cried. ‘I don’t WANT to see you. I’ve seen plenty of women, I’m sick and weary of seeing them. I want a woman I don’t see.’

‘I’m sorry I can’t oblige you by being invisible,’ she laughed.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you are invisible to me, if you don’t force me to be visually aware of you. But I don’t want to see you or hear you.’

‘What did you ask me to tea for, then?’ she mocked.