What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. "Oh no—no! You say this to terrify me—to try me. Isn’t that why we are out here?” “Why did you deny you were a vampire? Why are you keeping it a secret?” “I do not share the fact that I am a cannibal with the human race. "I expect a very extraordinary person to supper, Rachel," he remarked. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. The Oriental waterfronts were rank with the stuff. I’ve told you that practically already. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there.
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