Unformatted text preview: moving his lips. "And I remind you again that the future is everything." "You are no great spirit," I said. "You are no great mystery. That is what I must teach my family." "Then you teach them a lie. Their future is in my hands. And my future is theirs. That is your strongest suit. Be quick-witted for once, with all your learning." I didn't answer. I was amazed that the thing would hold a visible form so long. "A saint turned against God?" I asked. "Don't mock me with that foolish folklore, that nonsense. Do you think I was ever one of you? You are mad to suppose it. When I come again, I ..." and he broke off, clearly on the verge of threats. Then he said with childish quickness, "Julien, I need you. The child in Mary Beth's womb, it is no witch, but a feebleminded girl, suffering the same defect as Katherine, your sister, and even Marguerite, your mother. You must make the witch with your daughter." "So I have that to bargain with," I said with a sigh, "and you want me to couple with my own daughter." But he had exhausted himself. He was fading. Mary Beth lay sleep- ing, lush and quiet on the couch, covered in blanke...
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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