Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. ***** Coconuts grew perpetually. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. He agreed it was disgraceful. He decided that Hoddy should pay a colossal price for the Dawn Pearl—shame, loneliness, torment, for only through these agencies would he learn your worth. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. ‘What was Leonardo to you?’ Melusine was instantly on the defensive.
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