And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. She became aware of his presence as she had never been aware of any human being in her life before. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. ” The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud.
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