He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. He whispered in her ear.
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