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He asked me out two days ago and I thought, hell, why not?” Michelle answered. He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe. “I’m a vampire. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. Ennison stood by her side. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house.
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