Her skin prickled. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. "And now, to your own concerns. What is done cannot be undone. You’re dogmatic. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. I have only one question to ask you. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you.
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