"The accidental shutting of some door, dear."

"Was it that?"

"It was."

"Then I am relieved. Henry, I sometimes fancy I am in the tomb, and that
some one is feasting on my flesh. They do say, too, that those who in
life have been bled by a vampyre, become themselves vampyres, and have
the same horrible taste for blood as those before them. Is it not
horrible?"

"You only vex yourself by such thoughts, Flora. Mr. Chillingworth is
coming to see you."

"Can he minister to a mind diseased?"

"But yours is not, Flora. Your mind is healthful, and so, although his
power extends not so far, we will thank Heaven, dear Flora, that you
need it not."

She sighed deeply, as she said,--

"Heaven help me! I know not, Henry. The dreadful being held on by my
hair. I must have it all taken off. I tried to get away, but it dragged
me back--a brutal thing it was. Oh, then at that moment, Henry, I felt
as if something strange took place in my brain, and that I was going
mad! I saw those glazed eyes close to, mine--I felt a hot, pestiferous
breath upon my face--help--help!"