” He did not look at her. . It was filled with sopping lichens and green benches too slimy to sit upon. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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