She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter. You are the one person I can understand and feel—feel right with. I’ll come and see you again later on. "Rather cramped, eh?" "Rather so, Sir," replied the other, altering his position. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness.
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