She looked at me.“They’re going to be terrified of him,” she whispered.“I know,” I said. “But we know he’s a sweetheart.”“Do we?” ...or the first time Melody sounded both unsure and worried.“Let him dream about you. Then you’ll know how he feels.” I winced. “No. Bad idea.”“Why?” Melody looked guarded.“What happens in his dreams feels real.”“What happens in his dreams,” she asked. “And how do you feel them?”“We’ve gotten close. He’s a teenager. He has ... those dreams, if you know what I mean. I. He reached round and with some difficulty began repeating the magical thumb rub that had released the invisible catch the previous time. "Er... it's not working," he commented, after thirty seconds of trying. He turned to look at Jane, imploring her to help. "I'm sorry George," she spoke, sombrely. Lowering her head, she waited for him to reply. There was a ghastly silence. "Sorry for what?" George was clearly perturbed. Dimly aware that he was the victim of a practical joke, he expectantly. More

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