"I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement. You have to marry me. I tell you—never mind the bill. He looked distant, irritated. He had always warned her explicitly about turning others into vampires. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd.
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