” “No, don’t say that. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. But he can't have his eyes always about him, or he'd have been with us this morning at the Mint, eh, Mr. Very romantic and all that. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants.
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