” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. \"Do you mind if I call Cathy and Larry from here? I want to leave a message that I'll be out tonight. ” She distantly remembered moments in childhood spent in phobic trance, when her father had told her God was punishing sinners in Hell.
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