You shall have your reward. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. He cabled to New York: "Probable destination known. Things that you and the nuns would not think about for—’ She stopped, biting back the words “for a young girl”. I knew it. "Because—because I'm always distrustful of a priest," rejoined Jonathan. “I don’t see why I should take it secondhand. I'll send you word when I catch him.
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