And I'd have had to hunt other sleeping quarters." She did not abate that look of quizzical appraisal.

And again Gavin Brice began to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
"You have an orange grove, back yonder, haven't you ?" he asked, abruptly, nodding toward a landward stretch of ground shut off from the lawn by a thickset hedge of oleander.
"How did you know ?" she demanded in suspicion.

"By this light you couldn't possibly see--" "Oddly enough," he said, in the pleasant drawling voice she was learning to like in spite of her better judgment, "oddly enough, I was born with a serviceable pair of nostrils.

There is a scent of orange blossoms hanging fairly strong in the air.

It doesn't come from the mangrove swamp behind me or from the highroad in front of your house or from the big garden patch to the south of the lawn.