It could go up. And there, as the fog swirled and cleared, for a moment a figure stood before her, materialized out of the fog and mist: her half-sister, Viviane, the Lady of the Lake, the Lady of the Holy Isle. I have to be up at seven tomorrow morning. But she mustplan for their future, she told herself each day.
I have two thoughts, she said after a moment. I don't think I ever want to go back. She went slowly up the stairs. Magnin and bought abeautifully tailored tweed coat to be sent to Laura, because sheremembered how Laura and she used to freeze in their cheap Klein'sbasement coats in the New York winters.
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