. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. It was a curious sight to see how this extraordinary woman, who, it has been said, was not less remarkable for the extreme delicacy of her features, and the faultless symmetry of her figure, than for her wonderful strength and agility, conducted herself in the present encounter; with what dexterity she parried every blow aimed against her by her adversary, whose head and face, already marked by various ruddy streams, showed how successfully her own hits had been made; —how she drew him hither and thither, now leading him on, now driving him suddenly back; harassing and exhausting him in every possible way, and making it apparent that she could at any moment put an end to the fight, and only delayed the finishing stroke to make his punishment the more severe. If Emile can see him, then so also can I. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. Too late. It was only when they had sped back into the country that Sebastian asked, “Why kill the parents of the girl? What did they ever do to you?” “The girl had effectively gone public with my little vampire secret, Sebastian. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. “A confusion of motives—that’s what I am!.
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