Spurling in alarm. She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. 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. “I am exceedingly sorry,” he said.
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