She gurgled. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. 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. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. Miss Annabel is her sister. There was a girlfriend who was mentally ill. " "That is a far more agreeable one, I must confess," returned Kneebone, with a self-sufficient smirk.
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