It was an easy one to smell early on, Sebastian had taught her: anything reproductive. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure.
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