She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. One who—who—tres. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. Sheppard's ward, Sir. He lit a cigarette and loitered about.
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