Sylvan Cheney's suit jacket and shirt were still tossed on the floor.
Suddenly, Jasmine Yale looked down and saw that a piece of paper had fallen out of his suit pocket.
She bent over to pick it up.
The paper was a neat square, torn from a notebook.
The elegant English script on it read: You are an elegant gentleman, thank you.
Behind the English words, a smiling face was drawn.
The handwriting was exceptionally beautiful, making Jasmine Yale feel a bit ashamed at her own.
She stared at the English writing for a long time, with a dazed look in her eyes, and an indescribable feeling.
She was reminded of their conversation just now.
"You smell strongly of perfume."
"I wasn't with another woman."
The perfume scent on the paper was exactly the same as the one on Sylvan Cheney's suit.
Jasmine Yale's face was void of expression.
She folded the note and put it back into Sylvan Cheney's suit pocket.
It's not right to mess with other people's things after all.
