She was furiously angry. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice. She spoke with fluent enthusiasm. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. Little did the audience know that two vampires were in their midst.
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