“No, you didn’t. If my Mom found out, she’d kill me. 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. She felt privileged above other women at parties, where she was on display as all the duchesses and queens looked upon her with envy as he was so clearly entranced by her in every way. "Certainly not," replied Gay. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness.
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