‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. Lucy could smell that Michelle was the body type that easily became cancerous, and fast. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “Mid-thirties. —'It's all up with us,' says he; 'they've taken away our charter.
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