She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. He threw up his hand, reeled for a moment on his feet, and collapsed upon the floor. Sebastian drank deeply and quickly of her blood. Thank him, not me, man. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. In his youth he must have been a remarkably handsome man, for he is still handsome. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
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