She was round and warm and full of blood and I was in torment—but I did not touch her. This isn't fair. Be scientific, she told herself, but it was so hard under the weight of his will. A wave of purely mortal horror crested over Charlotte's unhuman pain.
Dr Neville smoothed his moustache, looking thoughtful. It's such an ugly word for such beautiful creatures. Less so in this sceptical century, I know, but it still happens. Not the sort with horns and a tail.
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