272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “Martin, I don’t know what to say. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. He could think about it later. As soon as she reached this spot, Wild sprang ashore, and was joined by several persons, —among whom was Quilt Arnold, leading a horse by the bridle,—he hastened down the stairs to meet him. One main avenue was for her to become a sort of salaried accessory wife or mother, to be a governess or an assistant schoolmistress, or a very high type of governess-nurse. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. It was his turn to express astonishment. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. " "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. He turned just in time to see Lucilla exchange an amused look with Hilary. They were Jonathan Wild and Quilt Arnold. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. Wild will hang me.
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