She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. He’s waiting. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands, he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. F. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. ‘Oh, ah. Let’s go up to my room.
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