I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. She wanted to kiss his feet. Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse. Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields. I would be chased by every curious party on this planet, by vampireseekers, by witch-hunters, by researchers, you name it.
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