I thought nothing of it as I entered the murky hallway and climbed the familiar stairs.
My door stood open.

It was dark in my study, save for the reflection of the lights of London outside.

As I crossed the threshold there came to my nostrils the faint sweet perfume of lilacs.

There are no lilacs in our garden, and if there were it is not the season.

No, this perfume had been brought there by a woman--a woman who sat at my desk and raised her head as I entered.
"You will pardon this intrusion," she said in the correct careful English of one who has learned the speech from a book.