He smiled and sipped his punch. ‘May I ask your name? Or would you rather stay unknown as The Masquerade dictates?’ He asked. ‘My name is Alexan...ria.’ Alex wanted to hear her name in his dark smooth voice, but not yet willing to let him know her full name. It was a Masquerade, after all. ‘Alexandria.’ He lingered over the name as if over a delicate wine. ‘Unfortunately my name does not quite fit in with Masquerade era quite as well as yours. I’m Mark.’ Mark raised his hand, and they shook. ‘A dreadful quiet descended onto the East End of London, and by the end of September people began to wonder if the murders had come to an end. But what had happened wuz that I had taken my wife to Paris, leaving Tumblety to his own, less violent devices. In France, I did move from one person to the next, but none of them brought about the lust for blood in me. ‘Now that I knew how to end the murders the question I wrestled with wuz, did I want to? ‘The answer came on the last day of September. More

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