’ But I made sure it was you. “Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. 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. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. To die intestate was unforgiveably irresponsible.
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