"Did he suggest you should say a woman was present?"
"No, sir."
"That was a little extra trimming of your own, eh?"
"No, it was a bit of truth that crept in. I thought a woman was there."
"By the perfume?"
"Yes, sir."
Quarles brought from the depth of a pocket a tissue-paper parcel, from which he took a handkerchief.
"Was that the perfume?"
Winbush smelt it.
"It may have been. It was the perfume that hangs about a woman in evening dress."