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. “Mr. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. "Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. Before any assistance could be rendered by the jailers, who stood astounded, Blueskin had got Wild in his clutches. ‘I will make certain that we are unobserved.
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