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 smiled artificially as she scanned the audience and located John. I overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack of finish, the crudeness of your drawing. After all, it is not long since that a Catholic nun in this country would have had to remain in hiding.
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