The Gilded Cage of Wastes
Act 1 The salon in Mayfair smelled of tuberose and opium and the peculiar sweetness of decay pretending to be elegance. Clarice Sterling stood at the edge of the room in a black dress that was wrong for the occasion—too simple, too severe, the dress of a woman who had chosen mourning over celebration. The hostess, a dowager countess with a face like cracked porcelain and a laugh like breaking...
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