The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. “I truly am a vampire, John. And with a hideous expression of pain, he fainted. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. “I’m a big boy, you know. They leave them out of novels—these incompatibilities. I had left Paris.
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