Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. Vampires are very lonely creatures, John. “I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. It was now a quarter past twelve. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity.
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