But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. “To-night we are as we have always been. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me. 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. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. For a space he rode the whirligig.
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