Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “Let me show you something. ” He made to speak and did not. Others pulled hats over their noses, cowered in their seats, and feigned that all was right with the world.
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