So why am I lingering over the product descriptions ("Liven up your bathroom with these bright colored all-natural, herbal soaps") at Ethical Shopper?
The smells of herbal soap and the familiar astringency of a cailcallow tisane gently told her she lay in the wards with the sick.
Not too coolly, but razor-sharp anger and spiky jealousy still threaded through the clean scent of her and her herbal soap.
She smelled faintly of herbal soap and clean perspiration, of herself.
She stripped to nothing and scrubbed every inch of herself with the herbal soap that was one of her few feminine weaknesses.
She smelled faintly of sweet herbal soap, and of herself.
Her scent was clean sweat with just the slightest hint of herbal soap.
"I didn't think you would," I lied, and gathered up a change of clothes, crumpled from the pack but clean, and a jar of herbal soap.
Finally, she scrubbed me down with an herbal soap using exfoliating gloves.
Sherry finished her orange juice and set her glass down on the basin, next to her cake of herbal soap.