Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. Marriage was a taboo subject between them. At table he carved in a gloomy but resolute manner.
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