I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. He had always warned her explicitly about turning others into vampires. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. Almost had Martha won out. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. And I don’t. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings.
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