"Here we part,—perhaps for ever. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. “Want to see my fangs?” She asked. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. A sudden knock at the door startled her. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it.
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