“Ye Gods!” she said at last. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. "The deuce he has! Why, it's only a few hours since I beheld him chained down with half a hundred weight of iron, in the strongest ward at Newgate. “Good, I’m so glad, Lucy. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Wood, in a taunting tone. I don’t care. He was an old, skilled vampire.
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