Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. “I’m a vampire. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. Besides, this is an affair which no one but myself can settle.
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