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. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. "It is," replied Sheppard. Sheppard, after a brief pause, during which she appeared overcome by her feelings,—she said, gently disengaging herself from the young girl's embrace, and speaking in a firm voice, "you must dissuade your father from this step.
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