Chapter Eleven Melusine’s limbs nearly gave way beneath her. Melusine choked on a laugh, and Gerald at once seized the initiative, speaking in a tone deliberately soothing. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. "I thought I heard a noise.
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