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Unformatted text preview: anger. "You and all your kind." "Ah, but I know, and your brother's in the straitjacket, yes, but you're the killer! You put him up to it. You used the music, you knew the trick." It had taken all her strength to say those words, but her love for Stella had demanded it. Stella. Evelyn had lain alone in the bed in the little French Quarter apartment, holding Stella's dress in her hands, crying against it. And the pearls, they would never find Stella's pearls. She had turned inward after Stella, she had never dared to want again. "I'd give them to you, ducky," Stella had said of the pearls, "you know, I really would, but Carlotta will raise hell! She's read me the riot act, ducky, I cannot give away the heirlooms and things! If she ever knew about that Victrola-that Julien let you take it-she'd get it away from you. She's an inventory taker that one. That's what she ought to do in hell, make sure nobody's gotten out to purgatory by mistake, or is not suffering his fair share of fire and br...
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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