‘Pitiful. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. 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. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least.
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