They had changed identities absolutely. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" "That's it! I ought to have died that night!" "Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by gratitude. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. He—wanted to marry me.
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