“And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. I like you very much, I haven’t known you enough to love you, no matter how worthy you are of love. D'ye hear how the wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it ourselves presently. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone. It may be well, therefore, before proceeding farther, to describe it more minutely.
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