She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. It was only when they had sped back into the country that Sebastian asked, “Why kill the parents of the girl? What did they ever do to you?” “The girl had effectively gone public with my little vampire secret, Sebastian. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. What a pity! But why? There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. “All right, Dunster,” he said.
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