“Forgive me,” he said, “but I want to hear it from your sister. ‘Her name is Melusine Charvill,’ Gerald began. She really must not go to that affair. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain.
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