Isn’t that why we are out here?” “Why did you deny you were a vampire? Why are you keeping it a secret?” “I do not share the fact that I am a cannibal with the human race. " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. “What do you think of that?” he asked. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. And at the sight something leaped within her.
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