It hardly served his interests. It was perfectly legitimate. “I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. I asked him—to take me away. “Don’t!” she begged. The girl only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment quietly upon his. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. But this I cannot do. “Going to visit our little friend the vampire?” “What?” He asked, incredulous.
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