Sebastian looked up and stood. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. He lowered himself onto her and entered her slowly, an inch at a time. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle.
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