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She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. " "Iss, missis," grinned the black. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. A millionaire and a knight, even though his money has been made in carpets, is used to being a person of interest. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror.
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