Wood. You look like a movie star. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. 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 saw that his words were falling upon dull ears. He continued thoughtfully. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one.
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