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Unformatted text preview: and the Talamasca," Ryan whispered. "You infer. You ob- serve, you witness. You look at all these puzzling things and you throw out an interpretation which fits with your beliefs, your superstitions, your dogmatic insistence that the world of ghosts and spirits is real. I don't buy it. I think your history of our family is some sort of... some sort of dazzling hoax, if you want the truth. I don't. . . I'm having an investigation of my own done, of you, if you want to know." Aaron's eyes narrowed. There was a touch of bitterness, sourness, in his voice when he spoke. "I don't blame you," he said. There was something very cross and bitter in his face suddenly. Repression of temper. Repression of confusion or ambivalence. Mi- chael sensed it more strongly now than before. Aaron wasn't himself, as they say. "Do you have the clothing, Ryan?" Aaron asked, pushing on with this unpleasant request, as if he resented very deeply having to do it. He was taking out that rese...
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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