She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. We were two people with a craving. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. ‘Bring her to me and we shall see. “This ain’t no place for you.
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