Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. "Well, what sort of journey have you had, Quilt?" asked the man as he hastened to assist Sir Rowland to dismount. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. “How dare you!” They were both astonished at the other’s strength.
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