“I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence. 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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