My arm's nearly well again. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden tom-toms; read to him. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. “No!” he said aloud at last. “Was that before or after you became a vampire?” Michelle questioned her casually, as if it were an interview. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. “Believe what, Michelle?” Lucy asked.
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