It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. ‘She would say, espéce de diable, this Melusine. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. “What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical.
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