But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. You know you do, Annabel. . He had been thrilled at her attitude about the subject, which was simply not to turn others into vampires. "She was mine before you ever saw her. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. “I might have muddled for a time.
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