It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. " "Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. Isn’t that why we are out here?” “Why did you deny you were a vampire? Why are you keeping it a secret?” “I do not share the fact that I am a cannibal with the human race. That is all I ask.
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