She forced herself not to think of John. “No. He temporized, and the girl raised her eyes once more to his. I do not care, but only that you will leave my affairs to me. ” He was a little bewildered. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. “I truly am a vampire, John. She shook them off of one foot.
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