272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. " "It has done me a whole lot of good to meet you. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. Your glove will suffice. Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated.
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