Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. It was an easy one to smell early on, Sebastian had taught her: anything reproductive. \"The way they smell,\" said Michelle. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind.
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