"Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. I worship you. But I must summon my janizaries. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch.
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