I’ve never actually sat at a table with Snow before. I let myself watch him, and let myself enjoy it, at least for a few minutes. I keep doing that, since this all started—indulging myself. (What’s that they say about having dessert first if you’re on the Titanic?) Snow’s table manners are atrocious—it’s like watching a wild dog eat. A wild dog you’d like to slip the tongue. After dinner, we go to the library and I show him what I’ve found on vampires. He keeps moving away from me, and I pretend not to notice. We should probably call Bunce and see what she thinks of all this—I’ll suggest it
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