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. "And me," added Mrs. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world.
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