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. Solomon Smith seemed to be Mr. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. Accordingly, he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened towards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find, consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other guardians of the night.
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