He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. She replied softly. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying. She is, in her way, a dear. ‘How is this? Proo-den-ss. The dizziness made the trees sickening, the smell of Michelle’s perfume soapy and revolting. Just by walking in you can tell if it is a good house or a bad house. ’ She advanced towards him. ‘Here we go again. "My child!" he groaned faintly. 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. His grip twisted her wrist. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint.
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