The early evening, Willie reflected, was really his favourite time for it. Later they could take a cab from her flat, dine at Ehmke, where he would once again test the theory about oysters, then on to St. Pauli and a nightclub; a few drinks, a little dancing, and a stroll up Davidstrasse and along the bright, narrow parade where the girls sat in shop windows on display, waiting for the occasional customer from among the throng of sight-seers; and so home to bed again for a couple of hours before he had to unwind himself from Ilse’s arms and legs to reach the airport in time for his plane.
Ilse opened her eyes and patted his cheek. ‘I’m glad you came, Willie.’ Her English held an American inflexion.
(Sabre-Tooth, chapter 6)