The title had formerly been held by Gianfrancesco’s brother, Alessia, now dead of plague. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. "Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps, I may never have another opportunity. 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. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit.
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