The Elixir of Beautiful Nothing
I. The laboratory smelled of roses and formaldehyde. That was the first thing you noticed when you entered Dr. Alistair Vance's private clinic on Mayfair Street—not the gleaming glass vials or the brass instruments, but the overwhelming scent of roses. He had always been fond of roses. His mother had planted them in the garden of their Chelsea home before the fever took her. Before the fever...
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