She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat. Instinctively she imitated this action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror that confronted her. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly.
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