See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. It had ceased now, but as he closed in on the area, a faint muttering came to his ears. The ruffian's companions took his part. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald.
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