272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. She looked up, and recognized Mr. “Lucy! You found me! I was just about to sleep some of those rum and Cokes off like the pig I am. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor.
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