" "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. “That sounds quite absurd,” she answered. D. He smiled. don’t have time. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her. You are to remain here until you are well.
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