I saw the blood come as he rolled over. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. 126 Lucy drank them as the first rays of watery sunlight seeped through the mullioned windows, then put their husks in the claw-footed bathtub. Vampires are very lonely creatures, John.
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