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Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. We are not animals. But we get over it. ’ ‘You mean the one that you refused to feed?’ demanded Gerald, seizing this promising cue and adopting a mournful note. Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. These were presently joined by a regiment of foot. The air was pungent and leaden. F.
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