272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. She will not confide in me. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. ’ Melusine heard a note of triumph in his voice and turned, a questioning look in her face. Brendon. "Altogether unsuccessful, Sir," said the chief turnkey, with a look of disappointment, not unmixed with apprehension, as he approached Wild.
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