She comes to his London pad late every Wednesday afternoon, only for sex, while her taxi waits outside. They don't speak but something must pass between them because they stand together and lie down next to the table without a word. The following week at the same time, she is at the door, they immediately undress. He is no longer in the house but goes straight down to the basement that he cannot afford to furnish, where he has strewn a few blankets and quilts over the carpet. A room where everything is permitted except, apparently, clarity. If sex is how you meet and get to know people, what does he know of her?