She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. ‘Come on, Hilary.
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