Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

And rowans white silk robe was laid out as if she

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Unformatted text preview: I get scared all alone in that front bedroom?" "Doesn't compute." "What did you say?" "Just means you're not scared of anything. And you know it, and you know I know it." "You want to sleep with me, don't you?" "No." "You're lying." "Doesn't matter. I won't do what I'm not supposed to do. Honey, I think I should call somebody." "Trust me," she said. "I'm going to go to bed now. We'll have breakfast in the morning. Henri says he makes perfect Eggs Benedict." He smiled at her vaguely, too tired to argue, too tired perhaps to even remember the phone numbers he ought to call. What evil things drugs were. They made him grope for the simplest verbal construc- tions. She hated them. She never touched alcohol, or drugs in any form. She wanted her mind like a scythe. He laughed suddenly. "Like a scythe!" he whispered. Ah, so he'd caught it. She had to stop herself from acknowledging this, because he didn't realize that she hadn't spok...
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