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Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. ” He stalked around the room.
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