Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

There was an art to keeping a prisoner he wept in a

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Unformatted text preview: ahead of her, all the way across the grassy plain until they came again 231 to the Cathedral. Much of the excavations of the south transept was sheltered by a great makeshift wooden roof, and locked doors. He broke the glass on a window, and unlocked a door and went inside. They were standing in the ruins of a chapel. The students had been rebuild- ing the wall. Much earth had been dug away from one central tomb, with the figure of a man carved on the top of it-almost ghostly now that it was so worn away. He stood staring down at it, and then up at what they had restored of the windows. In a rage he began to beat on the wooden walls. "Stop, they'll come," she cried. But then she lapsed back, thinking, Let them come. Let them put him in jail for a madman. He saw the cunning in her eyes, the hate which for a moment she could not dis- guise. When they got back to the inn, he started listening to his own tapes, then turning them off, rummaging through his pages. "Julien, Julien, Julien Mayfair,"...
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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.

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