Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. Sebastian physically restrained her as she hit and scratched at him, trying to touch her mother who went swiftly into her death throes. She climbed back into the window an hour before sunrise. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. You are wholly in my power.
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