One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. CHAPTER XII. I would be chased by every curious party on this planet, by vampireseekers, by witch-hunters, by researchers, you name it. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. “I can’t endure it,” she said. “I do hope you will be able to do this, because I value men friends. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. Not a breath was drawn. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. To have the present lengthen into years! But in a few hours she would be upon her way, far lonelier than she had ever been. Besides, my husband has shares in Sir John’s company.
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