Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. “Think of what people will say!” That became a refrain. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. Silly woman!. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her again. It was a mad half-hour.
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