The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. She remembered that she had not gone to bed until two o'clock in the morning.
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