" "Can you make me honest?" cried Jack. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. 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. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. A day will come when you will thank me.
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