’ ‘I do not think so,’ Melusine agreed, still puzzled. \"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. ” “If you’re a vampire, how can you run around in the daytime?” “There are many myths about us. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe from me.
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