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Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. “Ciao, Fragolina. She did not try to approach him. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. He proposed, he wanted to possess her! He loved her. ***** From the comatose state, Spurlock passed into that of the babbling fever; but that guarding instinct which is called subconsciousness held a stout leash on his secret. For a long time neither spoke again. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face.
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