She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. “I’m a vampire. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way.
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