272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Good riddance to bad rubbish. They are horrible. ’ She shook her head sadly. If you can’t see as how there ain’t nothing in this barrack of a place to help me do the job, I can. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity.
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