Little did the audience know that two vampires were in their midst. “It is true,” he said, “that I was dining last night at a restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes, and it is true that my companion was a young lady whose name is Pellissier. I love him as a brother. I am betrothed to Captain Roding, which is why you can’t have him, you see. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay.
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