Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception. "Friday!" echoed Mrs. “Of course you don’t.
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