"Look around you, Laurel," Melisande directed. "What do you see?"
Laurel flopped on the sofa and scanned the room, then wriggled her hip and pulled the grimoire from under the sofa cushion. "Books. Lots of books."
"Right. Books. Now, first, you're not looking at a home, you're looking at a library. We may have half the knowledge of civilization here, but we don't have any room for entertaining. We can get you in, but only by Divine Providence and a shoehorn.
"And as for boring me--do any of them look like mine?" Melisande paced across the room, all three paces of it. "Hah! Where, if I had any of my own, would I put them? I've been reading Stephen's books for years. If I had his magical talent, I could probably pass that wretched Ordeal myself!"
Laurel looked up abruptly from the grimoire's table of contents and stared at Melisande. "That's it." Her eyes brightened. "That's it!" She jumped from the sofa and gave her sister-in-law an enthusiastic hug. "Melisande, you're an absolute genius!"
"What's 'it'?" Melisande said. This was a member of Stephen's family. And she was enthusiastic. For Melisande these added up to, Lock up your sanity; we assume no responsibility for its loss.
"The Spouse's Ordeal." Laurel spoke as if that explained everything.
)
