"You'll feel better after it. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “No. Oblige me by acting under my guidance in the matter, Sir Rowland. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. She won’t be a problem from now on. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. The movement was fatal to her son. Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task. He sent me home.
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