‘Again you seek to interfere in my affairs?’ ‘I did warn you I had every intention of doing so,’ said Gerald. ‘He had run away with a Frenchwoman, you see, but Everett Charvill—I refer to the general—took care to conceal the matter. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. John did not see her until the last period. He wanted to become a millionaire. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague.
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