"I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. . There you are, the best client’s chair. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. ’ Relaxing back, Gerald folded his arms. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God. So far as I am concerned, I am just now a hopeless nonentity.
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