" "Anything like that?" "Yes; but the colour is lavender. Wild will hang me. ” “It is very nice of you to think of it,” Anna said briskly. Spurlock bent his head to the rail. I ought never to have thought of it. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis.
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