Unformatted text preview: herine, who knows. Something tells me you had best look out for her. I myself laugh at very little." Every day I jumped in her lap and started asking her questions. The hideous little orchestra played on and on-she would never tell them to stop-but very soon she began to expect me to come, and if I did not she sent Octavius to find me, wash me and deliver me. I was happy. Only the music sometimes sounded to me like cats howling. I asked her once if she wouldn't like to listen instead to the song of the birds, but she only shook her head and said that it helped her think to have this background. Meantime, over the din, her tales became more and more involved and filled with colorful pictures and violence. Until the end of her life, she talked to me. In the last days, she brought the orchestra into the bedroom, and while they played, she and I whispered together on the pillow. Basically, she told me how Suzanne, the cunning woman, had called LASHER up the spirit Lasher, "in error," in Donnelaith, and then been burnt; how her daughter, Deborah, was taken away by sorcerers from Am- sterdam; how the beautiful Deborah was...
View Full Document
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