She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. ‘You wish a life of obedience? So be it, Mademoiselle Charvill. “Both. Wood.
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