Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

She lifted her arms and found herself dancing on the

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Unformatted text preview: ing seen before. And it had real lighted candles in it, this little chandelier. She could smell the wax. The song of the soprano went on with its reliable and swinging rhythm, making her want to sing with it again. Her heart was brimming. "Oncle Julien!" she whispered, almost bursting into tears. Oh, this was the grandest vision she had ever beheld! She looked down into the hallway. More lovely patterns that she'd never seen before. And through the first of the high parlor doorways, the very doorway through which a long-ago cousin had been shot from this very stairway, she saw that the room was no longer the room of the present, and that tiny flames danced in the graceful crystal gasoliers. Ah, but the rug was the same rug! And there were Julien's gold damask chairs. She hurried down, glancing to right and left as the details caught her-the old gas sconces with their fluted crystal saucers of light, and the leaded glass around the huge front door, which had not been there before. The m...
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