“Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. For if the likeness between the sisters was remarkable, the likeness between this girl and the poster which he had come from studying was more remarkable still. ‘Come inside at once, child. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. You are not my husband.
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