272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl.
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