His French is better than mine, so he knew exactly what he was handling. 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. " "It matters not. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. She knew that in her new rôle she was as likely as not to be a rank failure.
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