We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. 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. So I've grown hard—outside.
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