Then deliberately he extracted two cigarettes, slipped one into his pocket, stuck the other between his lips.

She watched him in silence.
He returned the case to its owner with the slight, cynical smile she knew so well, and began to smoke.
"What time is Sir Kersley Whitton going ?" asked Violet.
"Soon.

His train starts at seven." Olga rose suddenly.

"Well, I am going to the evening service," she announced, with a touch of aggressiveness.

"Are you coming, Violet ?" "No, dear," said Violet.
"Nor you either," said Max, blowing a cloud of smoke upwards.
She looked at him.