She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. She did not resist him, she could not. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. On searching the coat, he found, amongst other matters, a mask, a key, and a pocket-book.
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