“It may not be just and so forth, but, after all, it is how things are. She brought her face to his chest, turning her head sideways so he would not notice her elongated canines. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. My heart fails me. That’s— that’s my private life.
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