272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. I was among the common herd in the place below, but I took good care to see you. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it.
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