He was an old, skilled vampire. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. He was still thickly clad in jeans. ” She seemed unmoved, but she did not look at him. Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him.
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