272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. 277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy.
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