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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. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. ’ She glared at Hilary. Jack had been touched in the morning, but he was now completely prostrated. ” Anna smiled very faintly. I suppose I believe in God.
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