The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. I don’t quite know why. Wagstaff. ‘But it is not on the horse at all, Jacques. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited.
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