“What did you say?” “Well, I considered myself justified in denying it,” Anna answered drily. She brought her face to his chest, turning her head sideways so he would not notice her elongated canines. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. It feels like it. . Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. ’ ‘And you do not know me. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s.
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