Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. But I was portentous, I can assure you. "No such thing," rejoined Thames. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire.
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