At last his voice came to release her tension. 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. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. "You didn't spend it?" "I never intended to spend it—any more than I really intended to steal it. ” “For example?” “Your dyed hair.
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