272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. He would be so disappointed. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. ” “You, then,” he said, “are ‘Alcide. "At a thought. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here.
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