272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Supper was over. “I wondered. His guardian angel warned Spurlock to speak carefully. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. Spurlock had not coached her on this line of conduct. Go off and live together—until we can marry. "What are you doing with him?" "It's a long story, Captain, and I've no breath to tell it,—unless you choose to release me," rejoined Quilt. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. I will confide it to Father Spencer, who will acquaint you with it when I am no more. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged.
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