Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff. His face brightened at the sight of her, and he came toward her. Sebastian snorted, “If it isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black!” “Your house is host to the lowest forms of life, those without morals! I will no longer allow my children to live 210 in such a house. Maybe it’s his loss. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. "I'll see him fettered myself. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil.
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