He had always warned her explicitly about turning others into vampires. The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. ’ She had given nothing away. The Night-Cellar. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. To tell you the truth, he spoke to me very seriously upon the subject. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy.
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