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Unformatted text preview: e. Traffic whizzing by. Finally she had stopped a taxi, though she had never done such a thing before, and when she got home, the man had brought the Victrola all the way up to the attic for the five dollars Julien had given her. "Thank you, ma'am!" The darkest of days had been right after his death, when Mary Beth had come to ask if she had "anything of Julien's," if she had taken anything from his room. She had shaken her head, refusing as always to answer. Mary Beth had known she was lying. "What did Julien give you?" she asked. Evelyn had sat on the floor of her attic room, her back to the armoire, which was locked, with the Victrola inside, refusing to an- swer. Julien is dead, that was all she could think, Julien is dead. She hadn't even known then about the child inside her, about Laura Lee, poor doomed Laura Lee. At night, she walked the streets in si- lence, burning for Julien, and dared not play the Victrola while any light burned in the big Amelia Street house at all. Years later,...
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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