Gerald looked at it, then at her face. The danger you put yourself in by remaining here astounds me. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success. ’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin.
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