272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. I'm safe enough if you hold your tongue. But that's his American education. “They are coming past our table. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. Footprints, and we have to toddle along in them, willy-nilly; and those who have the courage to step outside the appointed path are called pariahs!" "I'm afraid I shall not like this world very much.
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