Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

But for lasher to concentrate was to exist when

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Unformatted text preview: arly death, madness, exile-those were the fates of the troublemakers. When I look back on it, I think it is absolutely impossible that I could have become one of the great Passive Well-Behaved, along with my Oncle Maurice and Lestan and countless other goody-two-shoes cousins. First of all, I saw ghosts all the time; heard spirits; could see life leaving a body when the body died; could read people's minds, and sometimes even move or hurt matter without even really getting angry or meaning to do it. I was a natural little witch or warlock or whatever the word might be. And I can't remember a time when I couldn't see Lasher. He was standing by my mother's chair many a morning when I went in to greet her. I saw him by Katherine's cradle. But he never cast his eyes on me, and I'd been warned very early on that I must never speak to him, nor seek to know who or what he was, or say his name, or make him look at me. My uncles, all very happy men, said, "Remember this, a Mayfair male can have...
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