" "Mend!" echoed Mrs. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. Please don’t tell anyone, mister.
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