"Thank Heaven!" she gasped. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. As in a dream, Melusine saw her faithful footman struck, his headlong progress checked. "Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. But, let's see the prisoner.
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