” Annabel pulled up her veil. 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. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. . He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street.
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