He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. . I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare. He was an old, skilled vampire. It had not tasted good since 1350.
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