I can smell it from here, even through the closed door." She was most evidently conveying him a dismissal.

Chantelouve rose and, with a vaguely malicious smile, excused himself as being obliged to continue his work.

He shook hands with Durtal, begged him not to stay away so long in future, and gathering up the skirts of his dressing-gown he left the room.
She followed him with her eyes, then rose, in her turn, ran to the door, assured herself with a glance that it was closed, then returned to Durtal, who was leaning against the mantel.

Without a word she took his head between her hands, pressed her lips to his mouth and opened it.
He grunted furiously.
She looked at him with indolent and filmy eyes, and he saw sparks of silver dart to their surface.

He held her in his arms.