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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. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. Wood, in a taunting tone. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard.
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