Wood, in equal trepidation. “It’s his birthday. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. ‘You don’t believe her?’ ‘My dear Major Alderley, I do not know her,’ Mrs Sindlesham pointed out. I didn’t! I didn’t! After all—” For a time her mind ran on daintiness and its defensive restraints as though it was the one desirable thing.
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