The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. And now you must go back, take up your work and think all this over. ‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. ” “Oh. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. Though I’ll wager she used this passage, and we certainly ought to investigate it. Both of them.
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