Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. “Well, I don’t feel like standing it. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Cathy chimed. Both girls looked pale and listless.
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