My virtues as an omega were few, although my mother thought it likely I would survive childbirth and then most certainly outlive Mr. Evans. Small mercies, I thought, and then batted it away before I could feel dire and trapped again. But my worst deficiency of all was something not even rouge or a fierce set of laces on my stays could cure: I had almost no perfume. Sometimes, I really wasn't sure I had any at all, or if I just had a not unpleasant and nearly human sweat.
