" So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. “Dear John,” she whispered. “I truly am a vampire, John. Annabel, I cannot believe it. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait.
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