Peter had
been unconsciously sitting on the smoke wreath, and as the policeman
rose he deliberately sat down on it again. He felt suddenly sick, and
his heart was large and cold in his breast, where it did not beat, but
floundered like a caught fish.
CHAPTER XXII
THE FRAGRANCE OF FRESIAS
Winifred Child had been in this house, or else she had sold or given
the Moon dress to another girl who had been here.
Thoughts were flashing through Peter's brain with the sharp quickness
of motion pictures following one another to a far conclusion. Of the
girl he could not be sure. The lost dryad, needing money more than she
needed a smart evening gown, might well have disposed of Ena's gift.
And yet Petro had--strangely enough it had seemed to him then--thought
of Winifred and the mysterious "dryad door" on the _Monarchic_ the
moment he came into this place.
The perfume of the mirror room was here--the perfume which made all
Nadine's model dresses delicately fragrant of spring flowers; fresias,
the youngest dryad had said they were; and since then Peter had asked
for fresias at the florist's, requested the Scottish head gardener to
plant fresias in the garden, and had kept fresias in his room to call
back old dreams.
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