“There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. Your mother arrived, and she knew me for what I was, she whispered to me curses against werewolves and vampires when I was alone in a room with her. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. Her sister had told him that it was true.
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