You must forgive the poet’s license I take. After all, it was really rather funny. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. ” Lucy looked at the small shelf which was jammed with thick paperbacks by every major horror novelist of the twentieth century. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. ’ Melusine shrugged. That—that isn’t living! You are beside yourself.
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