As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. “I’ll never be happy again! I hate you! But most of all, what you have made me! A flesh-eating demon cannibal, just like you! I should be dead, dead and lying at the bottom of the sea. They were the same. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. ” Sebastian snorted. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. "I lost a very valuable one some time ago.
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