William J Locke is one of my "comfort- read" authors. Even books that are not his best are never complete duds, and his plots, while improbable and verbose with the vibrant verbiage of a true verbarian, hit the spot for me. There's no explaining it.
In this story, we have a 40 year old, staid philosopher searching for the Great Meaning. He's a little awkward, very "proper" and not particularly attractive, being described as tall, thin, and hatchet faced.
One day, while walking the Enbankment, he comes upon a girl crying on a bench. She has escaped from an arranged marriage and harem life in Syria and come to London where her male rescuer has henceforth disappeared.
What's a man to do? If he leaves her there on the bench, some blackguard may take advantage. It seems the only 'moral' thing to do is take her home under the protection of his guardianship. Where she settles in, stretching and purring like a satisfied cat under the scandolous scrutiny of society.
Well I don't want to say too much more but there are twists and turns which none can forsee (ok, I forsaw it but I read Pride and Prejudice and Tess of the D'Urbervilles, but don't think you know what happens cos its not quite like that).
Anyway, while I was reading I was thinking it was a 3- 3.5 star read but the ending totally kicked it up to 4 stars for me. It is perfect. Like, I-almost-cried-perfect. Its worth reading for the ending alone. But the rest is good too.
SEX: None shown
VIOLENCE: One blow of a fire iron
PROFANITY: Very Mild. A few Ds
MY RATING G- MILD PG