"The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. "To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic. “Wow. “For me there is no second turn.
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