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CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine. One could enter and leave by proa, but nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. They are all at prayer at this hour. .
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