She put her head out of the window. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. Tell Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood. 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. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. " "And loving me, you fought me, avoided all my traps! I'm glad I've been so unhappy.
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