Mon cher major, Melusine began. People think it is, but they are wrong. “Great!” Cathy squealed. 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. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service.
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