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It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. ‘You wish a life of obedience? So be it, Mademoiselle Charvill. He initiated sex with her, lightly fingering her clitoris as an invitation. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. ” Her aunt answered in a low voice: “I was engaged to him, dear, for seven years, and then he died. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club.
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