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Unformatted text preview: hurch, perhaps from those times, I don't know. I don't even know what it was, only I went into it, and sat in a rear pew, and bowed my head and gave myself over to almost praying. "God help me," I said. "I have never in my life really prayed to you, 353 except when I felt I was in the memory of that creature in the old Cathedral, standing in his flesh before the window of St. Ashlar. I have learnt how to pray from that one single moment of possession, when I was in him, and he prayed. Now I am trying. I am praying now. What do I do? If I destroy this thing, do I destroy my family?" I was deep in this prayer when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up to see a young man standing there, dressed neatly in black, with a black silk tie, and looking a little too well-dressed and well-bred to be ordinary. He had beautifully groomed dark hair, and startling eyes, small but very gray and bright. "Come with me," he said. "Why, are you the answer to my prayer?" "N...
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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