"Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. ‘En tout cas, it is not reasonable that I could be at all in love with him. ” He stood before the door. Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism.
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