She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. —'They can't, I tell you,' says I, in a bit of a passion; 'it's unconstitutional. Vampires are very lonely creatures, John.
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