Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. She might even forgive him. ” “That sounds very interesting,” she answered coolly. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment. It was his belief that the French had enough troubles of their own in these difficult times without bothering to nose out British business. 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.
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