“Number 13, please, cabman. " Winifred looked as if she could not indulge such a supposition for a single moment. 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. She never even graduated high school, and that has been a thorn in her side ever since. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left.
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