“Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. 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. ‘Am I right in supposing you to have been a sister to the late Mr Jarvis Remenham?’ ‘Quite right. He now tells her that she is free, no longer a slave.
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