As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. She'll have this hour always with her; and you failed her. “It was perhaps my fault. ’ ‘You mean the one that you refused to feed?’ demanded Gerald, seizing this promising cue and adopting a mournful note. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “I never dreamt!” she said. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack. And I am grateful to you. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent.
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