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Unformatted text preview: he did not know the name. That was something not inside her, that word. Or the word for the mouth instrument, like the Jew's harp, which wasn't quite the same. But she loved this music, she loved the insistent pulse of it, the divine monotony, the buzz all through her limbs. It seemed to tap on her eardrums, to tap on her heart, to freeze her and consume her. As in the glen, these humans here danced-old women, young women, boys and men. Even little children. Look at them. But these people couldn't make the Taltos. Get to Father. Get to ... "Come on, honeybabe!" Something ... a purpose. Leave here. But she couldn't think while the music went on, and it didn't matter. Yes, let him make her twirl. Dance. She laughed delightedly. How good it felt. Now was the time for dancing. Whoa! Dance. Father would understand. Twenty-nine IT WAS four a.m. They were gathered in the double parlors-Mona, Lauren, Lily and Fielding. Randall was also there. Soon Paige May- fair from New York would come. Her...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10