F. It’s gone. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. All the world over a wedding procession arouses laughter and derision in the bystanders. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. Too much blood has been shed already. “We must go. Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism.
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