His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. H’m. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. "Ay. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. Whatever those rights may be, whoever I am, my heart is yours. She did not care that vampire children are abominations. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. Would to God I had. Her gratitude swelled within her.
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