She glared at him with satisfaction. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. That would not help her. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. “Oh my God! You sounded like my Grandma just now! How did you do that?” He asked, shocked. You shall have the spending of every penny of my money. \"Of course not.
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