“Bit thick on the old man, isn’t it?” said Roddy, who had developed a bluff, straightforward style in the motor shop. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. Montressor’s guests were. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. Her lips were dry and cracked.
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