right and wrong

When she had pushed him from the room after firing his blood with a

rain of kisses on hands and on face, she panted awhile. Good

heavens, what an unpleasant smell there was in that slut Mathilde's

dressing room! It was warm, if you will, with the tranquil warmth

peculiar to rooms in the south when the winter sun shines into them,

but really, it smelled far too strong of stale lavender water, not

to mention other less cleanly things! She opened the window and,

again leaning on the window sill, began watching the glass roof of