“It was a phase,” she said. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. “What are you doing?” He cried. ‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived.
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