She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism.
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