’ He smiled down at her. 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. " "If it were so, he would have great reason to be proud of the relationship, truly," observed Wood, shrugging his shoulders. Leastways, not on your own. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. It was a haunted place. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me.
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