I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. She gave up as he finished, spending himself in her mouth. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force.
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