There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. 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. CHAPTER XXVII. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. The floor was planked with oak, and covered with iron staples, hooks, and ringbolts, with heavy chains attached to them. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. G.
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