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agrances can spike my brain and plunge me into erotic yearnings that live now； more than ever； to play themselves out。 His skin must smell like cashew nuts and thick almond creams。 It does。〃
He laughed。 〃I get your point。〃
I had shocked myself。 I was wretched for a moment。 〃I'm not sure I get myself；〃 I said apologetically。
〃I think it's plain；〃 he said。 〃You want me to leave you alone。〃
I saw the preposterous contradictions in all this at once。
〃Look；〃 I whispered quickly。 〃I'm deranged；〃 I whispered。 〃My senses cross； like so many threads to make a knot： taste； see； smell； feel。 I'm rampant。〃
I wondered idly and viciously if I could attack him； take him； bring him down under my greater craft and cunning and taste his blood without his consent。
〃I'm much too far along the road for that；〃 he said； 〃and why would you chance such a thing？〃
What self…possession。 The older man in him did indeed mand the sturdier younger flesh； the wise mortal with an iron authority over all things eternal and supernaturally powerful。 What a blend of energies！ Nice to drink his blood； to take him against his will。 There is no such fun on Earth like the raping of an equal。
〃I don't know；〃 I said； ashamed。 Rape is unmanly。 〃I don't know why I insult you。 You know； I wanted to leave quickly。 I mean I wanted to visit the attic； and then be out of here。 I wanted to avoid this sort of infatuation。 You are a wonder； and you think me a wonder； and it's rich。〃
I let my eyes pass over him。 I'd been blind to him when we met last； that was most true。
He dressed to kill。 With the cleverness of olden times； when men could preen like peacocks； he'd chosen golden sepia and umber colors for his clothes。 He was smart and clean and fretted all over with careful bits of pure gold； in a wristband timepiece and buttons and a slender pin for his modern tie； that tailored spill of color men wear in this age； as if to let us grab them all the more easily by its noose。 Stupid ornament。 Even his shirt of polished cotton was tawny and full of something of the sun and the warmed earth。 Even his shoes were brown； glossy as beetles' backs。
He came towards me。
〃You know what I'm going to ask；〃 he said。 〃Don't wrestle with these unarticulated thoughts； these new experiences； all this overwhelming understanding。 Make a book out of it for me。〃
I couldn't have predicted that this would be his question。 I was surprised； sweetly so； but nevertheless taken off guard。
〃Make a book？ I？ Armand？〃
I went towards him； turned sharply and fled up the steps to the attic； skirting the third floor and then entering the fourth。
The air was thick and warm here。 It was a place daily baked by the sun。 All was dry and sweet； the wood like incense and the floors splintery。
〃Little girl； where are you？〃 I asked。
〃Child； you mean；〃 he said。
He had e up behind me； taking a bit of time for courtesy's sake。
He added； 〃She was never here。〃
〃How do you know？〃
〃If she were a ghost； I could call her；〃 he said。
I looked over my shoulder。 〃You have that power？ Or is this just what you want to say to me right now？ Before you venture further； let me warn you that we almost never have the power to see spirits。〃
〃I'm altogether new；〃 David said。 〃I'm unlike any others。 I've e into the Dark World with different faculties。 Dare I say； we； our species； vampires； have evolved？〃
〃The conventional word is stupid；〃 I said。 I moved further into the attic。 I spied a small chamber with plaster and peeling roses； big floppy prettily drawn Victorian roses with pale fuzzy green leaves。 I went into the chamber。 Light came from a high window out of which a child could not have seen。 Merciless； I thought。
〃Who said that a child died here？〃 I said。 All was clean beneath the soil of years。 There was no presence。 It seemed perfect and just； no ghost to fort me。 Why should a ghost e from some savory rest for my sake？
So I could cuddle up perhaps to the memory of her； her tender legend。 How are children murdered in orphanages where only nuns attend？ I never thought of women as so cruel。 Dried up； without imagination perhaps； but not aggressive as we are； to kill。
I turned round and round。 Wooden lockers lined one wall； and one locker stood open； and there the tumbled shoes were； little brown Oxfords； as they called them； with black strings； and now I beheld； where it had been behind me； the broken and frayed hole from which they'd ripped her clothes。 All fallen there； moldy and wrinkled they lay； her clothes。
A stillness settled on me as if the dust of this place were a fine ice； ing down from the high peaks of haughty and monstrously selfish mountains to freeze all living things； this ice； to close up and stop forever all that breathed or felt or dreamed or lived。
He spoke in poetry：
〃Tear no more the heat of the sun；'〃 he whispered。 〃Nor the furious winter's rages。 Fear no more。。。'〃
I winced with pleasure。 I knew the verses。 I loved them。
I genuflected； as if before the Sacrament； and touched her clothes。 〃And she was little； no more than five； and she didn't die here at all。 No one killed her。 Nothing so special for her。〃
〃How your words belie your thoughts；〃 he said。
〃Not so； I think of two things simultaneously。 There's a distinction in being murdered。 I was murdered。 Oh； not by Marius； as you might think； but by others。〃
I knew I spoke soft and in an assuming way； because this wasn't meant for pure drama。
〃I'm trimmed in memories as if in old furs。 I lift my arm and the sleeve of memory covers it。 I look around and see other times。 But you know what frightens me the most…it is that this state； like so many others with me； will prove the verge of nothing but extend itself over centuries。〃
〃What do you really fear？ What did you want from Lestat when you came here？〃
〃David； I came to see him。 I came to find out how it was with him； and why he lies there； unmoving。 I came…。〃 I wasn't going to say any more。
His glossy nails made his hands look ornamental and special； caressive； ely and lovely with which to be touched。 He picked up a small dress； torn； gray； spotted with bits of mean lace。 Everything dressed in flesh can yield a dizzying beauty if you concentrate on it long enough； and his beauty leapt out without apology。
〃Just clothes。〃 Flowered cotton； a bit of velvet with a puffed sleeve no bigger than an apple for the century of bare arms by day and night。 〃No violence at all surrounding her；〃 he said as if it were a pity。 〃Just a poor child； don't you think； and sad by nature as well as circumstance。〃
〃And why were they walled up； tell me that！ What sin did these little dresses mit？〃 I sighed。 〃Good God； David Talbot； why don't we let the little girl have her romance； her fame？ You make me angry。 You say you can see ghosts。 You find them pleasant？ You like to talk with them。 I could tell you about a ghost…。〃
〃When will you tell me？ Look； don't you see the trick of a book？〃 He stood up； and dusted off his knee with his right hand。 In h