My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. Then, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. Woof! What a dog. (“No, no. She was rash and ignorant, absolutely inexperienced. ” Cathy hugged her.
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