"I'll make a sketch, too," he said. When he beheld Jack he uttered a deep groan. Brendon felt his arm seized. In one grave, mind. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. “Going to visit our little friend the vampire?” “What?” He asked, incredulous. CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow.
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