Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do. Everybody talking of you. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. "Thanks. In response to an almost imperative gesture from the nurse, Anna laid her hand upon his. Byby. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard.
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