“What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. 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. ‘I am sure you will. " "I've had the hard work to do, at all events," rejoined Jack, "But I won't complain. I don't think. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided.
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