"There's a type of woman who isn't content until she's made herself some man's slave and doormat—put herself… — John Wyndham

My impression was of an uncomfortably industrious place where there always seemed to be more jobs than people, unless one was careful, so on this particular evening I contrived to lie low until routine sounds told me that it was near enough to the mealtime for me to show myself safely.

Unfortunately there were certain persons with elastic principles.

There was often a great deal of grown-up fuss that seemed disproportionate to causes.

The ways of the world were very puzzling. . . .