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” Her urge to drink deeply of his blood was growing insane, ignited by what he had already donated. She took the piece of paper and unfolded it in the safety of her lap. To-morrow they will know the truth. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. ‘You could not tell it,’ said Melusine, ‘unless you were as close as we. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor.
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