Well might she do so, Gerald thought in irritation. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. G'night, kids. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents.
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