The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. "Be silent," said Jonathan, in a menacing whisper. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you.
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