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Viereck, George Sylvester, 1884-1962

"The House of the Vampire"

If it exacts payment in any form, it
is no longer either friendship or a gift. And you yourself have assured
me that I have nothing to fear from Reginald. I have nothing to give to
him."
She rallied under his words and had regained her self-possession when
the door closed behind him. He walked a few blocks very briskly. Then
his pace slackened. Her words had unsettled him a little, and when he
reached home he did not at once resume his exploration of Reginald's
papers. He had hardly lit a cigarette when, at an unusually early hour,
he heard Reginald's key in the lock.
Quickly he turned the light out and in the semi-darkness, lit up by an
electric lantern below, barricaded the door as on the previous night.
Then he went to bed without finding sleep.
Supreme silence reigned over the house. Even the elevator had ceased to
run. Ernest's brain was all ear. He heard Reginald walking up and down
in the studio. Not the smallest movement escaped his attention. Thus
hours passed. When the clock struck twelve, he was still walking up and
down, down and up, up and down.


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