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“I’m a vampire. . . Maybe half a year, counting this summer. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard. Manning, all this sort of thing is very well as sentiment, but does it correspond with the realities? Are women truly such angelic things and men so chivalrous? You men have, I know, meant to make us Queens and Goddesses, but in practice—well, look, for example, at the stream of girls one meets going to work of a morning, round-shouldered, cheap, and underfed! They aren’t queens, and no one is treating them as queens. Reluctantly she found him beguiling after he had eaten. “I’m inclined to think, Stanley, myself that as a matter of fact it was the expurgated Romeo and Juliet did the mischief. Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. I must know what new thing has come between us that she should treat me as a lover one day and a monster the next. ‘Certainly I am not a nun.
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