Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. I suspect she knew something, for she came home to Remenham House when she was increasing, and report has it that she was very unhappy. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. “Going to visit our little friend the vampire?” “What?” He asked, incredulous. She found her foster father and Mike still awake, playing high stakes UNO at the dimly lit kitchen table. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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