But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. "My God! will you see your child strangled before your eyes, and not so much as scream for help?" said Wood, staring at the widow with a look of surprise and horror. "In spots you are a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad. “I don’t know why. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. He warned her that it drove most men mad and that the process for choosing another to become a vampire was lengthy and protracted with good reason. I must practise what I preach.
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