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likely,” Meadows said. “He’s a mystic, and nothing more. Vampires will hardly be in his line.”
    â€œJust the same I think I’ll have a word with him,” Rushton decided, getting to his feet. “He has left this district now, of course, but we can soon trace him—and will. I’ll get in touch with you again when I’ve interviewed him.”
    He turned to leave, the Detective-sergeant beside him, then Mrs. Burrows’ voice gave them pause.
    â€œInspector, there’s something I’d like to know. What was your divisional surgeon’s opinion of the wounds my daughter had sustained?”
    â€œThe punctures in her neck, madam? Apparently caused by some lance-like object—which we can only assume were the teeth of the vampire. After that, presumably, your daughter’s blood was sucked from the jugular veins. Some of it was spilt in the process, on to the pillow.”
    Peter put a hand to his eyes as if to shut out the Chief-inspector’s cold matter-of-factness.
    â€œSuppose something had been used to duplicate a vampire’s teeth?” Mrs. Burrows persisted. “Would your surgeon know the difference?”
    â€œI doubt it. In fact he has no more experience of a vampire than I have. He can only assume.”
    â€œWhich is what I object to!” Mrs. Burrows snapped. “There is too much assumption in this business. I believe—”
    â€œMother, please!” Elsie entreated. “I can’t stand all this noise and argument.”
    â€œNo, my dear, of course you can’t,” Dr. Mead­ows murmured. “We’ll drop the subject, and leave it to you to do what you can, Inspector. At this end we will do our best, also.”
    Rushton nodded, bade farewell all round, and then departed with the sergeant beside him . Dr . Meadows considered Elsie for a moment in the light of the bedside lamp, then he glanced at Peter.
    â€œWant me to take it in turns with you to stay on guard?” he asked. “Hard work for one man alone, and it’s hardly a task for you, Mrs. Burrows.”
    â€œWhy isn’t it?” she asked coldly. “I’ve helped all I can up to now.”
    â€œNo doubt, but if George Timperley should re­appear I very much doubt your ability to deal with him.”
    â€œI’d be glad of your help, Doc,” Peter said. ‘If you could take on until about midnight I could grab a few hours sleep.”
    â€œGladly,” Meadows assented.
    â€œWhich means I am not wanted? ” Mrs. Burrows asked.
    â€œOh, mother, why do you have to be so unpleas­ant?” Elsie asked wearily. “Peter and the doctor are only doing what they think is best.”
    â€œWhen a mother cannot watch over her own child things have come to a nice pass,” Mrs. Burrows retorted. “At least I know when I’m not wanted.”
    She left the room impatiently and was not at all careful about the force with which she closed the door. Since it was still only early in the evening she went down into the drawing room. Switching on the lights she moved to an armchair by the fire and settled down. She did not read, or watch television. She gave herself entirely up to thought.
    The longer she was preoccupied the more the lines hardened in her face.
    â€œThat could be it,” she told herself at length. “And it is only right that Inspector Rushton should know what I think. Nothing must be—”
    She broke off as there was a sudden click from somewhere. Puzzled, she looked about her, but failed to detect anything unusual. Since it was not repeated she turned back to her thoughtful contemplation of the fire—then with a sudden whirlwind twisting of drapes the French windows burst apart and an apparition in snow white entered.
    Mrs. Burrows stared at the visitor blankly. She was too strong-nerved, too self-possessed, to be afraid: she was instead completely bewildered. Fixedly she gazed