” The change in Lady Ferringhall’s manner was subtle but unmistakable. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. “I forbid it!” she said firmly. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. ’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. "I am utterly lost. .
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