‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. I’m like a creature just wakened up. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. Try your luck with Jarvis Remenham—if you will.
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