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‘Parbleu, but I find that this is excessively clever, this passage. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. "So he may," rejoined Abraham, aloud, "so he may. The small predator subconsciously acknowledged the larger one. ’ ‘But I find it was extremely kind of him,’ protested Melusine, ‘and since it is that he is not any more under arrest—’ ‘No, he ain’t,’ interrupted Trodger in some dudgeon. "Gadzooks! I thought something was coming on; for when I looked at the weather-glass an hour ago, it had sunk lower than I ever remember it. ‘Don’t concern yourself. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter. The order was promptly obeyed, and the horses proceeded at a furious pace along the Edgeware Road. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. "Then it's all over with us.
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