You might be able to use the picture some day. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. "I yield to fate. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. There were two. I wonder. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away.
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