‘Dear me. 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. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. But I see very clearly that as things are a daughter is necessarily dependent on her father and bound while she is in that position to live harmoniously with his ideals.
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