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321 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 1, 1993
'And I met Lou and Tray at concert. Not Prokofiev, of course. A gig. They attached themselves to me like pretty flowers to a gnarled old branch. They think I'm some fallen star. And do I sleep with them? What does Rachaela suppose?'
'You like to ride things,' Rachaela said, bleakly, 'why not Lou and Tray?'
'Superb,' said Camillo.
Areas of her emotions had opened out. She seemed to have another sense. This constant awareness of other places, times, feelings...different lives, previous centuries. It was insidious, and pleasing in a bitter-sweet way. Perhaps it had even been there from the beginning...When she listened to music, maybe it had come then, in another form.