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Unformatted text preview: ct, someone at school had once said, she had the biggest words coming out of the littlest body in the world. Michael could sound like a New Orleans policeman one moment and a headmaster at another. "Unbeatable combination of elements," Mona had written in her computer diary. Then remembered Oncle Julien's admonition. "The man is simply too good." "Am I evil?" she whispered aloud in the dark. "Doesn't compute." She really hadn't the slightest doubt that she wasn't evil. Such thoughts were old-fashioned to her, and typical of Oncle Julien, especially the way he was in her dreams. She hadn't known the words for it when she was little, but she knew them now: "Self-deprecating, self-mock- ing." That is what she'd written into the computer in the subdirectory \WS\ JULIEN \ CHARACTER in the file DREAMi3. She walked across the kitchen and slowly through the narrow but- ler's pantry, a lovely white light falling on the floorboards from the porch outside. Such a grand dining room. Michael thought the hard- wood floor had been laid in the thirties, but Julien had told Mona it was i89os, a flooring they called wooden carpet, and it had come in a roll. What was Mo...
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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