Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s alert glance found his. I put my foot down like—like adamant. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword.
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