CHAPTER XXVIII. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. “I was lonely. “Of course,” he ventured, “I could try for more at the ‘Alhambra. ’ Melusine looked resentfully at the pistol. The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. “I’m a vampire.
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