She wondered wildly why she had stood up. “I wrote it for you. ‘And for you, monsieur le major, it will be well if you do not make me a shock like this again. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself. The back windows of the houses (where any such existed) were strongly barricaded, and kept constantly shut; and the fortress was, furthermore, defended by high walls and deep ditches in those quarters where it appeared most exposed. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. 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. There are also the letters which were scattered about Wild's room after the murder of Sir Rowland.
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