A strong breeze, against
which a flight of seagulls leaned, was stirring the trees in the
Embankment Gardens and ruffling the surface of the water. The pall of
smoke eastward seemed here and there cloven by a wind-swept avenue of
clearer spaces. He felt a sudden and passionate distaste for his recent
environment,--the faint perfume which had crept out from the girl's hair
and face as she had leaned towards him, the brushing of her clothes
against his, the daring exposure of silk stocking, the continual
flirtatious appeal of her eyes and lips. He felt himself in revolt
against even that faint instinct of toleration which her prettiness and
at times subtle advances had kindled in him. He let his thoughts rest
upon the more wonderful things which smouldered in his brain and leaped
like fire through his veins when he dared to think of them. The room
seemed suddenly purified, made fit for her presence.
"I am sure that Mr. Wingate will see me if he is alone," he heard a
familiar voice say.
He sprang to his feet, realising in those few moments into what paradise
his thoughts had been climbing, and greeted Lady Dredlinton.
Josephine accepted the easy-chair which he wheeled up for her and glanced
around the room critically.
"Just what I expected," she murmured. "A nice healthy man's room, without
too much furniture, and with plenty of books.
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