From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. . He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. He smiled. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. ‘I do not know the word in English.
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