She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. ’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. All my personal effects to be left in charge of the nearest American Consulate. "Something more than whisky did that. She’s got a great imagination. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below.
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