“I suppose Paris is very, very distracting. " Prudence shrugged. Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders by the valance of the bed. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. “Well, you’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room, but did I show you the basement?” He asked. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. The woman I wanted was another man's wife.
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