She thought like a sociopath-no empathy, no sympathy, no guilt, no compassion. You happy now? he said. He was suddenly alert again. He shook his head.
THE ESSENTIAL ELLISON 171 And f I knew the moment I heard the noises that it was our calvary coming, not Musette's. His face, if it was possible, went quieter, more closed, more secretive. For better or worse, fool or artist, young snotnose or old fart, I am precisely theperson, precisely the artist, I have made of myself.
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