They are the White Lotus." "White Lotus ?" Heywood snapped his fingers.

"Nonsense.

Extinct, this hundred years." "Extinct?
They meet to-night," said the outcast, in sudden grief and passion.

"They drink blood--plan blood.

Extinct?
Are _you_ married to these people?
Does the knowledge come so cheap, or at a price?
All these years--darkness--sunken--alone"-- He trembled violently, but regained his voice.