She hated the manor. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. “And now let us leave the men alone and talk about ourselves. Oh, what have you been about now?’ ‘There is no need to be concerned. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere.
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