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Spurlock bent his head to the rail. Melusine started back, blinking. He became a little more personal and intimate. John knew better. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. She whispered, “Another car is coming,” as lights approached their car. “I shall be waiting for you there, and in the meantime, if you will help yourself—pray don’t look like that. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Missy looked like a troll with lipstick on. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before him in an attitude of defence, with the child in his arms.
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