Love has its own laws and its own logic.

Under the flagstaff, where the Vissarion banner was wont to flap in the breeze, she was in my arms; her sweet breath was on my face; her heart was beating against my own.

What need was there for reason at all?
_Inter arma silent leges_--the voice of reason is silent in the stress of passion.

Dead she may be, or Un-dead--a Vampire with one foot in Hell and one on earth.

But I love her; and come what may, here or hereafter, she is mine.