272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. " "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. Afterward, one afternoon, he hovered about her, and came and sat beside her and talked of beauty and the riddle of beauty for some time. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. She spotted her opportunity. Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s name. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself. The change in her face was not a pleasant one. Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword.
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