"Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. “You’re. I want to be myself. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. My eyes are open to you. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. It was something that would create a mutual claim, a relationship. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose.
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