She kept her face downcast. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. ” “It isn’t that you’re splendid or I,” said Capes. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate.
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