Then for a time she sat very still. But days had now passed. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them.
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