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. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. "What have you seen?" inquired Lady Trafford. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. Section 1.
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