It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. “Exceptionally so. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. His smile faded. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again.
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