“All the time he is shouting and muttering. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. Do you know, I envy you. Fear nothing. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. None of the things they said and did were altogether new to Ann Veronica, but now she got them massed and alive, instead of by glimpses or in books—alive and articulate and insistent. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. "You will act most in accordance with her wishes, could she dictate them, by compliance. Knowledge was sacred in Athens, knowledge and his twin, Art. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously.
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