‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. ” “There’s art,” said Ann Veronica, “and writing. ” He leaned back for his soup. ’ He laughed. ” She smiled faintly. . “I’m a vampire. ’ ‘No, but you’ve made up for it since. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian.
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