Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. Teenagers don’t have any power, not of any sort, not in your world, not in the old world. “I truly am a vampire, John.
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