But in a moment she believed she understood. She had been warned time and time again by Sebastian that fame would mean the end of her freedom, being hounded in to the next lifetime by vampire and power seekers. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. . He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. ‘You have made a serious mistake, Melusine. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. . ‘Eh bien?’ She thrust again, from the same place. For a time she promenaded the room.
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