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. Opening the trap-door, he then descended to the vaults —searched each cell, and every nook and corner separately. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. ‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you.
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