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Unformatted text preview: y was frantic. The witch was gone. For the first time I heard many of them whispering the word. "But she is the witch!" they would say. "How can she desert us?" And the emerald. It lay on Mother's dresser among all her voodoo trash, like a hideous trinket. I picked it up, finally, and hung it round the neck of the nearby plaster Virgin. This for me was a dark time, a time of great freedom and also great learning. Katherine was gone, and nothing else much mattered to me. If I had ever doubted it, I knew it now-my family was my world. I could have gone to Europe then; I could have gone to China. I could have gone beyond war and pestilence and poverty. I could have lived as a potentate. But this small part of the earth was my home, and without my loved ones around me, nothing had any flavor. Pathetic, I thought. But it was true. And I learned what only a powerful and rich man can ever know-what it was I truly wanted. Meantime, the fiend was ever urging me to new lovers;...
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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