He hasn't found himself, as they say. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe from me. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way.
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