"Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. Sebastian sat smirking in amusement. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength.
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