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Unformatted text preview: plane had arrived on schedule. Ryan had gone to get her from the airport. They sat quietly and waited. Nobody believes in it, thought Mona. But we have to try it. What are we if we don't give it a try? Earlier, Aunt Bea had come from Amelia Street, to lay a midnight buffet out on the table. And she had put thick votive candles in the two fireplaces. They were only half melted away and the hearths still gave a warm and dancing light. Upstairs, the nurses on standby talked in low voices-having made a station, so to speak, with their coffee and their charts in Aunt Vivian's room. Aunt Vivian had graciously gone up to stay at Amelia Street, yielding to the firm attachment of Ancient Evelyn, who had gestured and murmured all evening to Vivian, though no one was sure that Evelyn really knew who Vivian was. "Two old ladies meant for each other," said Aunt Bea. "Let's call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Ancient Evelyn isn't speaking again. It's a cinch, she's Tweedledum." Throughout the house, in other rooms, even up on the third floor, in makeshift beds, cousins slept. Pierce and Ryan and Mandrake...
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- Spring '10