272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Moving room to room it was. ” She led the way, talking all the time to Ennison. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. We haven’t. "But, pardon my intrusion. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you.
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