” “Is this a fair sample of the dinner?” Anna asked, who had the healthy appetite of a strong young woman. Leonardo was to me nothing at all. 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. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. “Will you come round to the hospital?” he asked. 1. CHAPTER XV. 123 It didn’t take long. ‘Never fear, my love. "Oh lord! I hope not.
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