She felt that with Capes near to her she would be content always to go on loving. Lights were on and Michelle’s mother was up, occasionally pacing as Michelle and Lucy had been gone for over two hours. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery.
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