Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. As a man, Sebastian had always held enough power to live in luxury. “Let us walk round to Covent Garden,” he suggested. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. Oh the back of her arm she found the faintest down of hair in the world. "And, now,—to Newgate. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. Never mind.
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