Still, there certainly was something in the idea of a treaty. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. ‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis.
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