S. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Impossible!" echoed Wild, with a fearful imprecation. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. “And now, look at us! See what we have become. You did not learn that in a convent. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us.
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