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 thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. “Well, lodgings and things! And I paid my fees at the College. I don't threaten idly, as you know. Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked.
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