" So saying, he violently shut and locked the door. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. 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. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. Wood, in equal trepidation. “I’ve been thinking of you all night,” she answered. This man has an evil reputation.
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