The feel of soft carpet beneath her feet startled her, causing her to look up and wonder if she should remove her shoes—but the old sprite's calm demeanor left her unsure. So, with a nervous heart, she followed behind, feeling the sudden warmth of the hearth against the chill of winter.,That pallid, weak face had no color. The youthful appearance, barely seventeen or eighteen, possessed a beauty entirely different from Professor Moriarty's.,Is this the price one pays for being attacked by demonologists。