There was hope for me then. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. Anna’s face was half turned from him, but her expression, and the tone of her monosyllable puzzled him. ” They returned to the Beck house and he walked her to the front door. It wasn’t. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. . The reddish-haired young man contributed allusions to the Hegelian philosophy that momentarily confused the discussion. Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it.
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