It's gin—a liquor you used to like. Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. .
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