It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. ’ ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure,’ Gerald said at once, making an elegant leg. ” Miss Pellissier was beginning to recover herself.
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