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“Thank you. I did not reckon upon—him. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. ” He smiled and buzzed her in to the glass doors, which opened by an unseen electronic hand. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. ’ Melusine shifted her shoulders.
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