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The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. You must not, however, accompany me, Jack. And, what's more, I tell you, if Captain Sheppard is hanged, you need never hope to call me Mrs. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct.

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