He filled her glass with champagne. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle. " "Your husband?" "No. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again the things she saw. I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward.
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