The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. Like appendicitis. ‘Ah. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. There is everywhere at night in China the original fear of darkness. It is a most wonderful piece of good fortune, as I suppose you will be prepared to admit.
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