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272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Burn your palette and your easel. There was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it—thousands of people, and all with white faces like corpses. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. ” “God send you may never repent it!” cried Capes. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. She had killed him. ” He made to speak and did not. Moving to the shuttered window, Melusine dragged the heavy drapes back. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy.

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