“Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. 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. “Mom, this is the girl I asked to Prom, Lucy. But I'm not worrying about that. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness.
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