“Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. “Cut her throat!” Sebastian snapped. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house.
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