272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot. He upset some one —probably Mr. Both husband and wife affected an unnatural ease of manner for the benefit of the efficient parlor-maid, who was putting the finishing touches to the sideboard arrangements. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends.
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