‘But I don’t trust you an inch. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking. Aren't we funny? And just as I was beginning to lose faith in human beings, to have someone like this come along! It is almost as if she were acting a rôle, and she isn't. Her elbows were ready. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. It's a pity you wouldn't give me the prescription instead of the medicine, so I could have it filled nearer home. .
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