A kind but hard looking female officer named Rose took her into a room and sat her down at a small wooden table. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. He and her father shook hands manfully. She did not care that vampire children are abominations. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said.
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