She did not care that vampire children are abominations. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. Spurlock felt very well pleased with himself. He remembered it suddenly. ‘If you love me, you will say it, or else I will blow off your head. You must come back. They’re just a joyous softening of the outline—more beautiful than perfection.
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