It seemed at first the most beautiful afternoon of all time to her, and perhaps the thrill of her excitement did add a distinctive and culminating keenness to the day. ’ ‘Success?’ Her eyes narrowed. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. No doubt there’s some little mistake. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. The thing is, Miss Charvill —’ ‘He told you my name?’ cut in Melusine, surprised.
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