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Unformatted text preview: o, but I would know what you know. I am from the Talamasca. Do you know who we are?" Of course I knew these were the Amsterdam scholars. These were the men the old professor had described to me. My ancestor Petyr van Abel had more than likely been one of these. "Ah, that is true, Julien, you know more than I thought," said the man. "Now come, I would talk with you." "I'm not so certain," said I. "Why should I?" At once I felt the air around me stir, grow warm, and suddenly a gust of wind swept through the church, banging the doors, and star- tling this man so that he looked about him frightened. "I thought you wanted to know what I know," said I. "You seem afraid now." "Julien Mayfair, you don't know what you do," he said. "But you know, I am to suppose?" The wind grew stronger and banged the doors open, letting in a flood of ugly daylight among the dusty statues and carved wood, the sanctified shadows of the place. The man backed away. He stared at the faraw...
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- Spring '10