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She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man. A creeping numbness invaded her. It worked. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. F. Maybe it’s his loss. They hunted up shady nooks and went to sleep; but promptly at four they would be at the office, ready for barter. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about.
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