How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. Giles's was lined with spectators. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. “Why come after me after all these years, Sebastianus? Haven’t you found any sycophants to convert, any nubile young nymphets to bring into the cannibal flock?” “Why should I do that if there is still the chance of you?” “What if there could be no chance of me? How do you know you can have me?” “I see your game. The mummies were tossed into the collection. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh.
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