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. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. ” “I would forgive you a great deal more,” he answered readily, “for the sake of an evening like this. Does it?” “I think it does. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly.
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