He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. I don’t suggest any philanthropy. But in that case, why the raging jealousy about Madame having taken her place. A little kindness would not bring the world tumbling about her ears. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. 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.
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