” Her urge to drink deeply of his blood was growing insane, ignited by what he had already donated. ’ He laughed. His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. ‘How happy for you that Valade came to take you away from France,’ he said encouragingly, adding with one of those intimate looks, ‘Happy for me, too. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price.
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