If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. This year—I’ve got it badly. He did not speak for a moment. ” “Is it necessary,” he said, “for me to tell you——” “Stop, please,” she said firmly. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. “I’m a vampire.
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