Some day older people, perhaps, will trouble to understand younger people, and there won’t be these fierce disruptions; there won’t be barriers one must defy or perish. 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. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. ‘Give me an opportunity to open my mouth, and I will.
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