Nancy meets Marcus at a party. He is untidy, nervous, shy: women have never paid him any attention. But here is virgin clay from which Nancy can mould her Adam. She marries him, and on their wedding night Marcus realises he is as much her protege in sex as in other fields. But soon he is confident that, under her guiding hands, he had been transformed into a consummate lover; and he begins to feel the urge to slip his leash. 'Elegant, funny and erotic... a good showcase for [Brophy's] perceptions on life and art, her wit and her dazzling prose.' Telegraph 'Sly and sophisticated and written in a deceptively simple manner.' Kirkus Reviews 'Brophy has the enviable knack of combining precision with suggestiveness.' Saturday Review

Nancy meets Marcus at a party. He is untidy, nervous, shy: women have never paid him any attention. But here is virgin clay from which Nancy can mould her Adam. She marries him, and on their wedding night Marcus realises he is as much her protege in sex as in other fields. But soon he is confident that, under her guiding hands, he had been transformed into a consummate lover; and he begins to feel the urge to slip his leash.

'Elegant, funny and erotic... a good showcase for [Brophy's] perceptions on life and art, her wit and her dazzling prose.' Telegraph

'Sly and sophisticated and written in a deceptively simple manner.' Kirkus Reviews

'Brophy has the enviable knack of combining precision with suggestiveness.' Saturday Review