Unformatted text preview: of my bed, too exhausted to think for a moment. Then I looked up and my soul was filled with despair. This beautiful fresh creature on the brink of life, and I so old, very soon to end it. I was so tired I might have said yes to death now, if this girl, if her case had not demanded my presence here. "Can you understand me?" I asked. "Do you know who I am?" "Yes, Julien," she said in plain English effortlessly enough. "I know all about you. This is your attic, is it not?" she said in her little treble voice, and as she looked around at the beams, at the books, at the fireplace and the chair, at all my precious things, my Victrola and my piles of songs, she gave a soft trusting smile to me. "Dear God," I whispered. "What shall I do with you?" Twenty-one THE PEOPLE who lived in this bright little house were brown people. They had black hair and black eyes; their skin gleamed in the light above the table. They were small with highly visible bones, and they wore clo...
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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