” Lucy looked at the small shelf which was jammed with thick paperbacks by every major horror novelist of the twentieth century. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ” “That is exactly what I feel. His initial nervousness had already abated, and it took some valour to allow himself to become embroiled in Melusine’s crazy schemes.
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