Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually. Your disobedience be upon your own head. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. "But it won't do. To write under a pseudonym!—to be forced to disown his children! He could not write under his own name, enjoy the fruits of fame should these tales prove successful. “These are her rooms,” she said. “I truly am a vampire, John. You are wholly in my power.
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