He wriggled underneath her heaving body, pinned like an insect. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. “If I do,” he said. " "You flatter me," smiled Sir James.
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