She answered weakly, “I’m fine, John. I cut off her limbs so that she would not escape. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. ’ She spread her hands. 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. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. ” Annabel gave a little gasp. “Is that plain?” she asked.
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