– Well, then we need to… What is it? – Grayson frowned, grabbing my hand and examining the deep scratches one of the girls had left on it.
– It's nothing! It's just scratches! – I said hurriedly.
– "Just scratches"? There are millions of bad bacteria, dirt, rot under those girls' fingernails! You need to wash your sctratches right away! – the vampire said harshly, and I thought he was angry.
– Yes, of course! I'll do it as soon as you let them out of here! – I promised, looking at him fearfully. – I promise!
Grayson was silent and stared at me intently.
– All right. How could I refuse my guest? – he said in a cheerful tone. – But first I want you to meet them. – The vampire led me to one of the cells.
I looked at the girl sitting in the corner, crying, dirty: she reminded me of a member of a primitive tribe – so horrible she looked.
– This is Susan, the daughter of a small English nobleman. Susan is a fine horsewoman, loves to play cricket, and is also well versed in painting and English sport. I met her in London, a month ago, and persuaded her to come away with me, which she, quite willingly, did.
A month? So this poor girl's been in this cell for a month?!
– And this is Lourdes. A fiery, passionate Spaniard who loves the sea, ships and music. I think she can play the flute pretty well. I met her in Lisbon, where she was on holiday with her father. She left with me the day after we met, half a month ago, seventeen days ago to be exact. You see what a girl's frivolity leads to?
As I listened to the vampire's calm, even indifferent story, I felt nothing but contempt for him: he talked about girls as if they were unnecessary things, not living beings. But Grayson's bored look told me that he did treat them as things.
– You tricked them! You played on their feelings! And they trusted you! – I exclaimed contemptuously, unable to keep silent. – You used your beauty to lure them here!
– Yes, I did. But if you want to give me a guilty conscience, don't waste your efforts: I don't have one," Grayson smiled charmingly.
– But you promised you'd let them go! – I reminded him anxiously.
My heart was filled with pity for these poor, trusting creatures: deceived by their angelic appearance, they had fallen into the clutches of a monster. And before, they had their own free and interesting lives. But Grayson had no pity for them-he saw them only as food, only as people he could mock.