“I got Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the Gare du Nord. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. "God in Heaven bless you, unhappy boy!" cried. 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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