“Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. As in all things, so his thoughts came to him deliberately. And listen, John. She approached a soft-looking bespectacled girl she had seen once in the halls and noticed for her haunted look. Dashing through the open door, he crossed the Old Bailey, plunged into a narrow court on the opposite side of the way, and was out of sight in a minute, baffling all pursuit. I do not ask if you are entirely English, but if you say truly when you say you are at my service. F.
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