272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. " "'Zounds! Captain, I shall get my death of cold. Killed is too kind a word. It was Annabel’s.
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