You. I know what was said and promised and waged, and I know the words you like best, and whose blood need the spilling and the way of it all - I know it, and I know of you, and you shall have your due freely. Don't touch me
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You ignore me horribly and yell a fright and you don't love me at all - if you did, you'd have brought my kitty some blood, the poor dear - crushed, I'm utterly crushed and neglected.
Apologies, Madam. Cries in sotto voce will not mean I shall not employ every conceivable trick in every desperate book to cheat, lie or extort in order to side-step this affair.
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The gentleman and I share a word or three on occasion.
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What kitty? The Count?
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Don't call it that. It's mine now.
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In your own time, if you will. My scissors can be still a while longer. ♥
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You must understand this. Surely.
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The service was as ordered, and no more.
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Do angels bleed the same as humans, I wonder?
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Grantz, you test my patience.
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