‘I thank you. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. Plote was sleeping or deaf. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. But two weeks later he returned. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. “It is unimportant,” she said. “It isn’t anything to do with our times particularly. “I truly am a vampire, John.
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