272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. My own impression is that he already knows. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. " "That 'ud be no such easy matter," replied the countryman. My late husband, I mean. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground.
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