'...For from this novel, disturbing sensation was being born slowly, painfully, another emotion, jealousy: and Miss Bramley was frigid in manner to anyone who displayed a tendency to become intimate with the old lady. Even upon the casual acquaintance of a hotel - upon that pathetic over-dressed proportion of England's surplus middle-aged females, which in the short span between sunrise and sunset, birth and death, finds an assurance of eternity in the involute inanities of a conversation carried on among itself, and thus lives by taking in its own spiritual washing or, occasionally, washing its own dirty linen - Miss Bramley turned a severe and then a threatening eye...'
from Before the Bombardment by Osbert Sitwell (Chapter IV)
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