Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face.
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