‘Me, I do not need the help of anyone. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly.
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