Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Wood from pressing his suit long ago. After the dance, they went to a party. That's the only fault I know of. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. I can. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand.
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