” She said. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. We vampires have awesome powers of regeneration, given adequate donors. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. “You know nothing about the stage. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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