” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. But I proved it to them! Oh yeah, I told John, but I don’t think he believes me either. He had been thrilled at her attitude about the subject, which was simply not to turn others into vampires. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals.
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