Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and between ourselves I am not sure about it myself. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. ” He meditated. I bent over him. S. Martin was the only person to directly address Lucy again, trying to reassure her that “real vampires melt in direct sunlight.
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