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“I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. Sheppard. “Dear John,” she whispered. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. ’ She frowned suddenly. She fell into another depression, refusing to touch Sebastian or call him husband when he demanded it. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you.
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