and shrugged his shoulders. An excellent question.
Why not go ask him? And although he meant it in jest, she accepted
the suggestion without second thought and ran to the carriage, moving
slower than a crawling baby down the street, and jumped up on the
running board, peered through the window at the man inside, and there
he was, the magistrate, with that damned hat, but he had taken it
off to wipe the sweat from his brow, and he stared at her as if she
was an apparition, his eyes dark and blazing with youth, and in those
eyes she would recognize something she would not see again until she
met the would-be warrior, that one night when they were both watching
fireworks at the lake, and her would-be lover's eyes were fixated
at the tiny explosions in the sky, the lights as tiny as stars in
his dark pupils.
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Don't don't don't! the old man before her sobs. I'll do
anything!
You will lick my shoes? she says.
Yes!
You
will do whatever I tell you, and you will not tell the madam?
He does not respond immediately, and she brandishes the camera before
him like a weapon. He falls to his knees.
Yes, yes!
You will continue to come here and pay me, and you will follow
my every command?
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