He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. 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. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies.
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