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datatime: 2022-09-26 04:09:11 Author:gnEYfZsr

I was alone in my room and the whole household had gone down to the village at twilight for the big bonfire that was the custom every year on this evening.

I want you to go to Paris, Lestat, she said.I want you to take this money, which is all I have left from my family. I want to know you're in Paris, Lestat, when my-time comes. I want to die knowing you are in Paris.

I want you to go to Paris, Lestat, she said.I want you to take this money, which is all I have left from my family. I want to know you're in Paris, Lestat, when my-time comes. I want to die knowing you are in Paris.

Sit down, she said. She pointed to the bench near the hearth. Reluctantly I did as I was told. She sat beside me.

I love you for it, she said.It's all too like you that you should see this in a tiny bedroom in the inn late at night when you're drinking wine. And it's entirely like you to rage against it the way you rage against everything else.

Is it on account of my dying, what's come over you? she asked.Tell me if it is. And put your hands in mine.

My mother came in, closed the door behind her, and told me that she must talk to me. Her whole manner was tenderness.

She listened and then she said,You're such a fighter, my son. You never accept. Not even when it's the fate of all mankind, will you accept it.

I had always hated the celebration. It had a ghastly aspect to it the roaring flames, the dancing and singing, the peasants going afterwards through the orchards with their torches to the tune of their strange chanting.

I had always hated the celebration. It had a ghastly aspect to it the roaring flames, the dancing and singing, the peasants going afterwards through the orchards with their torches to the tune of their strange chanting.

I was alone in my room and the whole household had gone down to the village at twilight for the big bonfire that was the custom every year on this evening.

I didn't answer her. I can't convey to you the frame of mind. I was still raw, trembling, and we had to talk about the fact that this living, breathing woman was going to stop living and breathing and start to putrefy and rot away, that her soul would spin into an abyss, that everything she had suffered in life, including the end of it, would come to nothing at all. Her little face was like something painted on a veil.

I love you for it, she said.It's all too like you that you should see this in a tiny bedroom in the inn late at night when you're drinking wine. And it's entirely like you to rage against it the way you rage against everything else.

I had always hated the celebration. It had a ghastly aspect to it the roaring flames, the dancing and singing, the peasants going afterwards through the orchards with their torches to the tune of their strange chanting.

My mother came in, closed the door behind her, and told me that she must talk to me. Her whole manner was tenderness.

I love you for it, she said.It's all too like you that you should see this in a tiny bedroom in the inn late at night when you're drinking wine. And it's entirely like you to rage against it the way you rage against everything else.

And from the distant village came the thinnest sound of the singing villagers.

But I told her the truth. I didn't know, and then I explained some of what had happened in the inn. I tried not to convey the horror of it, the strange logic of it. I tried not to make it so absolute.

I want you to go to Paris, Lestat, she said.I want you to take this money, which is all I have left from my family. I want to know you're in Paris, Lestat, when my-time comes. I want to die knowing you are in Paris.

I know, she said,that you and Nicolas are talking of running away.

I want you to go to Paris, Lestat, she said.I want you to take this money, which is all I have left from my family. I want to know you're in Paris, Lestat, when my-time comes. I want to die knowing you are in Paris.

I won't go, Mother. . .

Stop, Mother, I said, aware of how selfish I was being, but unable to hold back.And this time there'll be no gifts. Put the money away.

In my present frame of mind, it struck terror. I sat by my own little fire, trying to resist the urge to go to the window and look down on the big fire that drew me as strongly as it scared me.

Stop, Mother, I said, aware of how selfish I was being, but unable to hold back.And this time there'll be no gifts. Put the money away.

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