You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. “I’m mostly self-taught. . He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence. The fire still burned brightly. .
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