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"He had the dazed impression that a blue skeleton glowed beside his bed."
"Yes, Ludwig," she faltered.
Meusel felt himself shrinking from contact with her as she stepped into bed. Ashamed of his disloyalty, he could not goad himself to offer comfort. He was afraid even to question her. In the stories he had heard as a boy, exposure of a witch always brought calamity upon the exposer.
She lay face down, scarcely breathing. Presently, when she believed him asleep, her breathing quickened. Her shoulders began shaking. She started to sob softly. She tried to check her sobs; and then they began afresh.
Meusel's damp body grew taut. He wanted to ask some of the numerous questions which were pounding in his head, but he did not dare. He was afraid to let her know that he knew. All night he lay stiffly by her side, afraid that if he once relaxed his vigilance she might do him some bodily harm. Like a witch—or a vampire!
In the morning, she was red-eyed from
