“No women in here,” he went on. “Why not?” said Nobby. “No women asking questions, neither.” “Why not?” “’cos it is written, that’s why.” “Where’m I supposed to go, then?” The barman shrugged. “Who knows where women go?” “Off you go, Beti,” said the Patrician. “And . . . listen for information!” Nobby grabbed the cup of wine from Colon and gulped it down. “I dunno,” he moaned, “I’ve only been a woman ten minutes and already I hate you male bastards.”
