” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. He would never recognize me now. At least I can give you a glimmer. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “I was sent for to go to the Hospital St.
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