‘You can’t prove nothing. I have only seen your sister for a very brief time, and I am a little past the age when a man does headstrong things. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. " "No—no," laughed Jack. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds.
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