It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. The Victorians over-did it a little, I admit. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Sebastian drew over to her and lifted her chin from her chest. "She was mine before you ever saw her. “You’re a biologist, aren’t you?” He began to talk of his own impressions of biology as a commonplace magazine reader who had to get what he could from the monthly reviews, and was glad to meet with any information from nearer the fountainhead. " "A key!" exclaimed Wood eagerly. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. Not wisely but too well. The girl nodded sagely. .
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