They had changed identities absolutely. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole shot to us. What does he do these three days?’ She had come daily to the vestry, hoping to meet the lad and hear his report. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. The perfume was the only one she ever used.
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