‘Fiddle, Gerald. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. 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. I’ve got to have you, and by God I will. ‘Gammon. I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her.
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