Vampires are very lonely creatures, John. ‘Oh, peste. “What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster.
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