‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. The hansom sped through the crowded streets.
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