"I don't know. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. And the door was suddenly thrown open, and the two janizaries felled to the ground by the strong arm of the stalwart robber. I went to the theatre that night. ‘None of them means anything to you at all? How odd. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. "I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan. " "Very well. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and between ourselves I am not sure about it myself.
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