But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect 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. Were you born here, madame?’ ‘Mais non. ’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. ” She breathed an inner sigh of relief. ” “Is that so wrong, to want to live forever?” “It is wrong to if the price is murder.
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