. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. “‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. That was the only sound he heard. As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. You’re dogmatic. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. He warned her that it drove most men mad and that the process for choosing another to become a vampire was lengthy and protracted with good reason.
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