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. “Bless you, sweetheart. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. When John’s parents weren’t home, they made love in his bedroom.
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