” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and between ourselves I am not sure about it myself. All make the same answer—'d—n you, keep it. She had just passed into a little antechamber beyond when she suddenly heard a faint knocking.
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