The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. "Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. ’ A derisive snort greeted this passage. She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate. She was my first love. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room.
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