“It’s the spring,” he said. \"I don't eat lunch. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before.
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