Her wings were oddly weak, but for all that she could fly. She fell into another depression, refusing to touch Sebastian or call him husband when he demanded it. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father.
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