Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. “Women are mocked,” she said. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. He unlocked himself from her embrace. Hastening along the passage he came to the sixth door. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days.
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