How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. 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 were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat.
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