There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. Martin was the only person to directly address Lucy again, trying to reassure her that “real vampires melt in direct sunlight. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. Get you gone. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter.
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