All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. Come and see him, Lucia. In one grave, mind. Then the storm broke. “I have made no arrangements as yet— none at all. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod.
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