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. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. ” He stared in amazement at this new aspect of the situation. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. A slow anger burned in the man. “That’s not. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. uk Cover Art by David Evans Bailey www.
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