Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. “I truly am a vampire, John. ” “Go ahead. Ask your own conscience. I know what I am talking about. “To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. I thought you understood. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. “Please let me drive you home. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore.
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