She brought Sebastian’s chloroformed rag up to his face with her right. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Having seen every precaution taken to ensure his safe custody, he departed, muttering to himself, "I shall yet live to see him hanged—I shall live to see him hanged. ” “He’s utterly, completely hot.
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