It's a grey, damp November afternoon in Doncaster. The signal for the Up Fast through road turns green and a headlight appears in the distance, rapidly becoming brighter.

“But you cooked a human being and ate him,” say I. “I couldn’t help it,” says she. “I remember the cattle steaks of the old days, the juicy pork, the dripping joints of lamb, the venison.”

Brooklynite, Delhiite, Jerusalemite, Keralite, New Jerseyite, Seattleite, Sydneyite, Wisconsinite, Wyomingite; also see ashramite, hostelite

I mean the natural atmosphere of the person, of course, not the artificial airs that surround and envelop the beperfumed modern lady.