“If I am to turn you into a vampire, she cannot know. Ennison reeled, and almost fell. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. She was an indignant queen, no doubt she was alarmed and disgusted within limits; but she was highly excited, and there was something, some low adventurous strain in her being, some element, subtle at least if base, going about the rioting ways and crowded insurgent meeting-places of her mind declaring that the whole affair was after all—they are the only words that express it—a very great lark indeed. I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. You know—if you want freedom.
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