“You must do more than think of it,” he urged. No police officers or lurking storms were anywhere in sight. “I can’t. \"Ever thought about letting me do something with your hair?\" Not needing an answer, Shari got up and whipped out a vented brush from an overstuffed drawer. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. “I wrote it for you. . ” 74 She hung up the phone. ’ They passed through a little antechamber, and Melusine sighed with relief as she entered the library next door.
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