F. You must wait till supper's over. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. Once before—but that had been different. It had been her home for hundreds of years. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. \"Do you mind if I call Cathy and Larry from here? I want to leave a message that I'll be out tonight.
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