By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. ” “You, then,” he said, “are ‘Alcide. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. You don’t know the thoughts we have; the things we can do and say. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell.
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