And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. This was unscrupulous, he admitted, because he had no intention of following through on the seductive promise in his conduct. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths.
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