I take more than their blood, John. ” “It cannot be!” “It is in the grimoires. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. It was Annabel’s. "What is it?" "The night," she answered.
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