“Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. Little did the audience know that two vampires were in their midst. Before he forced an entrance, Jack tried it, and, to his great surprise and delight, found it unfastened. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible. She is a fortune-teller and a vessel for man’s pleasure.
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