To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. He insisted once again on opening the car door for her. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman.
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