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. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. ’ A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. " A detective.
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