‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. . “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. Tell me all that happened, one sister-woman to another. “Look round the table,” she said. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. ” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. ’ ‘Merci.
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