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. It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. He sent me flowers. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. I was at work at it yesterday and the day before. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. .
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