John. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play. Anything that drew attention to her must be avoided. She could feel his penis pressing against her, half-erect under the starched black tuxedo pants. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. For what could be more ironical than for Howard Spurlock to see himself grow famous under the name of Taber? The ambrosia of which he had so happily dreamt!—and this gall and wormwood! He stood up and rapped his pipe on the rail. ’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely.
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