These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. Grandmothers and grandfathers and uncles and aunts … to love and to coddle lonely little girls. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. \"Hey, you dudes!\" The word dude coming from Michelle's mouth suited her just about as well as the word \"gnarly\" suited Winston Churchill. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck.
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