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. No, this was not reasonable. “It’s a nice holiday. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. Yet you knew that I was not dead. Captain Roding strode into the parlour. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. “Martin, I don’t know what to say. "I don't know.
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