Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much more expression than they could carry. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. “I truly am a vampire, John. ‘Espéce de diable,’ she screamed. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. She had to do her thinking at home—under inspection. Collins, you can go now.
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