“I’ve never been prone to them. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. gutenberg. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness.
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