Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

A sort of physical opportunity for an occult and

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Unformatted text preview: e to observe her taking away this mysterious little toy, he would in befuddlement not attach any mean- ing to what he saw. I had to remember: the monster could read my thoughts. I was desperate. No sooner had Evie gone, her high singing voice dying away in the stairwell, than I wound the big new Victrola and called Lasher to me. Perhaps he would not heed her at all. When he appeared, I appealed to him: "Lasher, protect always that poor little Evie," I said. "Protect her from the others, for my sake, will you protect that child." He listened as best he could with the music entrancing him. Invisi- ble, he blundered about the room, knocking things from the mantel, rattling the framed pictures. Fine with me. It was proof that he was there! "Very well, Julien," he sang suddenly, appearing in the midst of a jolly dance, feet striking the boards with some semblance of weight and sound. What a smile. What a dazzle. How I wished for an instant that I had loved him. And by that time, I thought, surely Evie is all the way home. Weeks passed. Evie's liberation was now a fact. Richard often took her driving, along with Stella. Tobias took her regularl...
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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.

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