272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. ‘The nuns, they teach prayer and obedience. Give me the keys and the light. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. I am afraid, Anna, just a little afraid, that in Paris I and my friends here might seem a trifle advanced.
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