“See that man?” Sebastian would tap her on the shoulder on a crowded alleyway and say, “See how he lingers too long when he touches that little child? The glow in his eyes? That is lustful intent, my dear. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Everything in this world changed—except human folly.
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