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Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. I killed him, Nigel. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. " "What ho! Blueskin!" shouted Jack. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness.
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