“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. He had particular reasons for wanting to keep Spurlock away from the jetty. There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. She loved to be told to do things. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. He must be more or less of an age with this man. This laugh and his looks alarmed her. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister.
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