" "The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth Bess. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint. 148 “Sure. 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. The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess’s side.
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