Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. All at once her heart began to patter queerly. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. One only. I wished to control the weather, to possess infinite wealth, and to understand the substances of the earth. Too late now. ” “She wanted to become a vampire. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. " "But, man, this chap hasn't fallen soft.
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