Usually so sure of himself, he was filled by unfamiliar uncertainty, and the uneasy suspicion that, by coming here, to Penelope’s house, he had somehow lost control of the situation. This was disturbing, because it had never happened before, and he had a horrid premonition that her extraordinary mixture of naïvety and sophistication could well have the same effect on him as a tremendously strong dry martini, leaving him both legless and incapable.
