272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “The life of a private secretary is positively one of slavery. "Lend a hand with the ruffles, Blueskin!" he shouted, as that personage, who had just recovered from the stunning effects of the blow, contrived to pick himself up. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. ’ ‘Merci. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. ” John approached Lucy, handing the bouquet to her. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness.
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