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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 will please to tell this—this idiot to release me. It disgusts me that you should touch me. And as these things should always be treated as matters of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum of our arrangement. That's well. She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. "But I appeal to you, Sir James, whether it isn't extraordinary that so very slight a person should be such a desperate robber as he is represented—so young, too, for such an old offender. .
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