272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. At least I rather hoped I might spend my time chasing smugglers, which would have afforded some excitement. . These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of the doctor. “I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. She felt the warm nearness of his. He cocked an eyebrow. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn’t. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. But about the unknown Englishman she was not so satisfied.
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