Afterward goes on to Oxford. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. We have met before. In a sense I don’t care. But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him.
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