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. He thought for a moment, and went on: “Love is something that has to be taken care of. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun.
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