272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. But I don't look for peace on this side the grave. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. " "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his wishes, whether expressed or implied—would depart without consulting him, he was equally surprised and enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting her to the carriage. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. \" Michelle sighed. "Not the sort of stories young ladies should read.
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