“Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. Besides, this is an affair which no one but myself can settle. “That is where I got confused,” he said. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. He warned her that it drove most men mad and that the process for choosing another to become a vampire was lengthy and protracted with good reason.
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