They were only passers-by. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck.
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