Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. “But if my manner tells! I cannot help it if that shows. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. 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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