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. May I lend you
something tougher than a sweat suit?"
"I'm fine. Start at Arbor House, okay?"
"Okay," I said, and I proceeded to fill her in while I garbed myself in
tougher fare. She was no longer a pretty lady to me, but rather a nebulous
entity in human form. She seated herself while I was talking and stared at
the wall, or through it, over steepled fingers. When I was finished, she
kept staring, and I went over to my drawing board, took up Coral's Trump,
tried again, but couldn't get through. I tried Luke's card, also, with the
same results.
As I was about to replace Luke's Trump, square the deck, and case it, I
glimpsed the next lower card and a lightning chain of recollections and
speculations flashed through my mind. I removed the card and focused on it.
I reached. . . .
"Yes, Merlin?" he said moments later, seated at a small table on a
terrace-evening skyline of a city behind him-lowering what appeared to be a
cup of espresso to a tiny white saucer.
"Right now. Hurry," I said. "Come to me."
Nayda had begun to make a low growling sound just as the contact
occurred, and she was on her feet and moving toward me, her eyes fixed upon
the Trump, just as Mandor took my hand and stepped through. She halted when
the tall, black-garbed figure appeared before her. They regarded each other
without expression for a moment, and then she took a long sliding step
toward him, her hands beginning to rise
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