“I killed him. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. 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. Such stories were increasingly heard in English society. What would happen when next morning she returned to Morningside Park? He couldn’t turn her out of doors. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin.
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