For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. It was most amusing.
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