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" "I don't understand you," replied Kneebone, in some confusion. ” She was silent. ” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. White calls them. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little.
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